I've had Enough
by SpritelyGryffindor
Summary: Ron runs away from the burrow at the age of nine, meets Harry, and helps him escape Privet Drive. Simple? Not when they've got half the ministry looking for them, not to mention the fact that Sirius has escaped Azkaban to look for Harry.
1. Apparition

A young boy with red hair and freckles was sitting at a desk littered with crumpled up parchment, page after page held sentences that were scratched out, or words that had been blotted with so many tears, they weren't legible anymore.

There was an old clock next to the little desk the boy was sitting at. It's face was illuminated by the lamplight and showed that it was well past midnight. The boy finally sat up and read the latest draft of what he had written. He nodded with satisfaction and threw away the old pieces.

He glanced around the room, pleased with himself that he had managed to make it look so tidy and grabbed an envelope and wrote one word on it in large messy letters:

_Mum_

He set down the envelope next to the letter to make sure that the ink would dry and reached under his bed, pulling out a beat up old rucksack. It was big and heavy (for him at least), and appeared to be packed full of objects.

He set it down next to his desk and walked over to the cage of his pet rat. The boy went to open the cage to pull the rat out, but he paused.

Turning back towards the letter, the child scribbled a postscript under his signature. Nodding to himself, the boy folded up the letter, stuffed it into its envelope, and went back to retrieve his rat.

"Well, Scabbers," he muttered to his pet, as he put him in the pocket of his robes. "I think we're all ready now."

The child blew out the flame in his lamp and slipped quietly out of his room and onto the staircase that went down a few floors.

_Why do I have to live at the top? _Ron groaned to himself, as his foot hit a creaky stair. So terrified he was of his plan being ruined, the boy spent ten minutes trying to get down the stairs in a way that wouldn't wake anyone up.

He was very relieved to reach to bottom of the stairs and he walked quietly into the kitchen. He knew exactly where he needed to put his letter. He had given it a great deal of thought and he figured he'd leave it in the one place that he knew for sure that his Mum would check.

The red head grabbed some spell-o tape off of the counter, put some on the envelope and, standing oh his tiptoes, he stuck it to the face of his mother's "Weasley Family" clock. The boy stepped back to make sure it was stuck on properly, then went quietly to the kitchen door and unlocked it.

He knew the moment he opened the door that he'd messed up. It shrieked at him loudly and he knew it would wake up his parents. How could he have forgotten about the protective charms his mother always used? Knowing he had very little time, the boy sprinted out the door as fast as he could.

His rucksack bounced up and down against him, straining his shoulders and making an awful racket. He heard Scabbers squeak in protest from his pocket, but he didn't pay any attention. He was going as fast as he could down the road, but he knew he was moving much too slowly.

_Maybe I can try and apperate_, _like Dad. _Thought the boy wildly. _But where would I go? Think! I have to be well hidden, where no one can find me. Like Harry Potter! No one knows where he is, so I should go there!_

So he paused in his running and turned on the spot like he had seen his parents and older brothers do so many times. He was thinking, about where he was going the way Bill said you had to in order to apperate.

_I want to hide where Harry Potter is; I want to hide where Harry Potter is! _Ron thought he heard someone shouting behind him, but just then the world warped and darkened.

There was a sudden pressure all around him; it was like a dragon was squishing him. He felt something pressing in on him and he felt a pain in his hands. _Something's wrong! _He thought frantically. Then, the sensation of being squished by a dragon ceased, but the pain remained. He found himself lying on the ground; he sat up and felt the pain in his hand more fully than ever.

The boy looked down at his hands and released a sob.

There was nothing but blood and pain in the place where his fingernails used to be. He had splinched himself. The red head had tears of pain running down his face as he tried to pull his rucksack off his back to get some bandages out, but when he pulled on the straps he found that there was nothing attached to them. He looked around for his rucksack but it was gone.

_I must have splinched that too, _he thought miserably.

He felt movement in his pocket, and smiled when he opened it and saw Scabbers curled up inside of it.

"Least I got you, you lazy old rat" he said.

He stood up and looked around, wincing as the cold air hit his injured fingers and read a street sign.

_Privet Drive. _

_I wonder where this is. _Thought the boy as got up and walked down the street.

Meanwhile, back at the Weasley house, things were in complete chaos.

It had started when a loud shriek emitted from downstairs. Still harboring a few reflexes from the war against Voldemort that had ceased nine years ago, Molly and Arthur Weasley were instantly out of bed, their wands drawn. There was a second's pause in which they listened to the sound, trying to place it.

"That's the kitchen door!" gasped Molly Weasley in alarm.

"Check on the kids!" commanded Arthur and, with that, he bolted out of his bedroom and down the stairs into the kitchen, but it was empty.

_"Hominem Revelio!" _shouted Arthur. He looked around the house and saw two people aside from himself so there was no intru—_Wait two? _thought Arthur. His eyes widened and he sprinted out the door thinking of all the dark wizards he'd crossed. Images of one of his children being kidnapped flashed through his mind.

He heard someone running down the road that lead away from his house and he increased his speed. That's when he saw—not a dark wizard, but a small figure with a rucksack, running ahead of him.

_A child? _Arthur wondered. The child slowed and turned on the spot. Arthur saw a glimmer of red hair in the moonlight, and the outline of a familiar face.

"Ron!" Arthur shouted in surprise. But just then, there was a crack and a heavy thud. Ron had vanished before Arthur's very eyes, leaving nothing but a rucksack lying in the path.

Arthur ran forward and saw a glint in the moonlight. He crouched down.

His heart seemed to freeze. Fingernails. His son had disapperated, worse than that; he'd been splinched.

His ministry training kicked in.

_Okay, leave everything where it's at and get to the ministry to get help._ He spared one last glance for the place where his son had vanished, hoping desperately that fingernails were the only things his son had lost, and ran back towards the house. He hurried into the kitchen and almost collided with his wife, who was in tears.

"Arthur! Ron wasn't in his room!" she said frantically.

"He disapperated Molly" he said urgently.

"He—what? How?" she asked, bewildered.

"I don't know, but he splinched, his fingernails were left behind, I don't know if that's all he splinched but—" He was cut got off as his wife turned around and dashed over to the family clock.

She paused and pulled an envelope off the front of it and looked down at in in confusion, then up at the clock. Arthur came up beside her and he sighed with relief when he saw Ron's hand on the clock pointing to 'traveling' and not 'mortal peril'.

"Mum, Dad what's going on?" Molly didn't hear the question, she had torn open the letter that was on the clock's face and was reading it, looking anxious.

He looked down at his daughter, who had been standing in the corner watching them, then at the letter she was reading.

_She'll tell me what that's about in a minute, _he thought. So, Arthur knelt down to Ginny's level and asked kindly.

"Ginny, has Ron said anything to you about leaving the house and going on a trip?" he asked, scanning her face for any reactions.

"No" she said looking confused.

"Has he been acting strangely lately? Has he done anything unusual?" he questioned.

"Well…" Ginny thought hard and then she looked up at her dad. "He came into my room just before bed and gave me that toy hippogriff that we're always fighting over" she said.

"He told me that I could have it to myself, that I don't have to share it with him anymore. He looked sad. I asked him if he had been crying and he told me not to be a git, he said only sissies cry."

Arthur frowned and was about to question her further when he heard his wife call him.

"Arthur" she said quietly. Her voice was broken and when he looked into her face, he saw tears sliding down her cheeks. He stood and she handed him a few pieces of parchment.

"H-He left it o-on the c-c-clock" she chocked out through a sob.

Arthur took the letter from her and read the words his son had left for Molly.

_Dear Mum, _

Um, hey. I'm not so good at writing stuff but I reckon I'll give it a go because there's a lot I need to tell you. I don't know how to say this. You always tell me not to be so blunt, but I can't make myself sound all nice and considerate like everyone else can, so I'll get to the point.

When Fred and George went away to Hogwarts, I was really excited. I was finally going to be able to get lots of attention for once, because none of the older boys would be showing me up all the time.

But it didn't work out like that. For the last couple months, all you wanted to do was spend time with Ginny or Dad. So I've been trying to hang out with Dad in his shed when he's not at work, but he always tells me it's too dangerous and to go play with Ginny. Sometimes Dad would play with me, but most of the time he was either busy talking to you and Ginny or going to work. I thought that since you and Dad didn't play with me like you did with Ginny, that I might be doing something wrong, so I tried to be better.

I tried to dress cool like Bill, but you and Dad and Ginny all took the mickey out of me for what I was wearing. So then I tried to do ancient runes like Bill, but the book was really hard and I couldn't read the runes no matter how hard I tried. I reckoned it would be better to try to be cool like Charlie instead, on account of the fact that I know how to fly way, way, way super better than I can read ancient runes. I was so excited to try doing those cool moves that Charlie can do. But I fell off the broom and you yelled at me for flying upside down and banned me from brooms for a week. A whole week! Charlie got injured loads of times back when he was at Hogwarts. He still talks about it sometimes, but you don't yell at him. I didn't understand why; then I realized that it was probably because I'm bad.

You always yell at Fred and George for things that you wouldn't yell at Percy for, because they break more rules than Percy. I thought that maybe if I was good like Percy, that you wouldn't get mad when I did Charlie's moves. So the next day, I did everything I was told and tried to use fancy words, and I didn't let anyone break the rules. But you got mad again. I told on Ginny for breaking the rules and you yelled at me for being a tattle-tale. I thought you wanted us all to be good like Percy. Was I doing it wrong? I don't understand why you got so annoyed when I was trying to be like Percy.

I thought maybe the reason I couldn't be good like Percy is that I'd already broken too many rules and had a "bad reputation" like Dad says Knockturn Alley has. I thought maybe I could be funny, like Fred and George instead of good like Percy. No one minds that they break a bunch of rules because they're so funny, but my plan didn't work! No one laughed at my jokes and you made me de-gnome the garden all by myself because I pulled a prank on Ginny. It wasn't fair! Ginny never gets in trouble when she pulls pranks on me with Fred and George. I think it's because she's a girl, that's why she's your favorite.

I know it must be nice to have a girl for you. If I were a dad I'd want a son, so I think I kind of get it. Is that why you had so many kids? Were you waiting to have a girl? I like having Ginny, and I'm glad you got your girl, but I don't think she likes me very much. She tells me that I'm bossy and annoying and we fight all the time. I think maybe that's why no matter what I do you yell at me. Ginny doesn't like me and since you love Ginny best, you agree with her.

But you know Mum, even if I was really smart, and strong, and kind, and cool, it wouldn't be a big deal. You'd just tell me that I'm following in Bills footsteps, or that I'm just like Charlie. You always tell me that I'm like the other boys, so any cool thing that I do isn't special because my brothers have already done them, and when I try and be like them, you get mad because I'm not as good as any of them.

I'm sorry that I'm a disappointment, Mum, but I can't change the fact that I'm just Ron. That's why I'm leaving. I want to go somewhere where nobody knows me, or my brothers, a place where I can be Ron instead of "Just like Bill and Charlie" or "Just like Percy". And if I do something, everyone will be impressed because they won't have seen my older brothers do it first.

It will be better for all of us, I think. I'm going to be ten in the spring, that's only a year under Hogwarts age, so I'm plenty old enough to be on my own. It'll be fun for you, you'll get to play with Ginny all the time and not have to worry about me, and you won't have to pay for me to live at the house anymore. You can even sell my stuff if you want, I won't be coming back so I won't need it. And my brothers and Ginny won't have to share the toys with me anymore. Dad will get to be in his shed without me bothering him and he'll be able to do more fun stuff with you now that there's only going to be three of you living at home.

I bet you'll all have a lot of fun, so don't freak out in the morning because I left; I'll be fine. To be honest, I think we'll all be a lot more fine from now on since, I'm not living with you anymore. Anyway, I love you Mum. Tell Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny that I love them too. Bye Mum.

_-Ron Weasley_

P.S. I'm taking Scabbers with me. Percy told me to take good care of him, and I wouldn't be doing that if I left him behind.

Arthur slowly folded the letter and set it on the counter, feeling stunned.

_How could this have happened? How could I not have noticed how he felt? How down he was? I knew he'd been acting strange. Molly said he'd been doing weird things all week. _

It was true, Ron had been acting really out of character all week. He had been dressing strangely, looking through Bill's old spellbooks, doing dangerous things on his broom, telling on Ginny for every little thing she did wrong, and after all that he topped the week off by dipping Ginny's hair in an inkbottle as they did their homework. He remembered coming home to find his son degnoming the garden as punishment for the last one.

_I had no idea he was doing all that stuff to try and fit in. How come I didn't see how lonely he was feeling? _Arthur heard his wife sobbing next to him, but he didn't look at her, he turned his attention to his daughter.

"Ginny, go and fetch me some parchment" he said seriously. Ginny obeyed, frightened by her father's tone.

"Molly, I'm going to the ministry. I need to contact the missing persons department of the Auror office, maybe they can find out where Ron disapperated to. I need you to call in as many people as you can who might be able to assist in tracking him; Bill, Charlie, Dumbledore, that friend of yours who lives in hogsmeade. Tell them everything you can and see if they have any contacts who might be able to help."

Ginny came back with the parchment, and Arthur took it from her. He waved his wand and the words from the letter copied themselves onto the new sheets of parchment.

"We'll need to keep these as a record, I need to take the originals to the Auror office for evidence." Molly already had her address book out and was frantically flipping through its pages looking for people that she could call for help. Arthur passed her and went over to the door

"Tell Dumbledore to break the news to Fred, George, and Percy we'll need to know if Ron tries to contact any of them."

He opened the door

"Molly" he called. His wife looked up.

"We'll find him" he said.

She nodded at him, a look of fierce determination crossing her features. Arthur gave her a grim smile and walked out into the yard. Once he passed the boundaries of their protective charms, he turned and vanished.


	2. Exploding Tea Cups

**Just wanted to clarify, I said in the first chapter that Voldemort had been defeated nine years ago, but it should be eight since Harry was a year old when Voldemort attacked. Just wanted to clarify, since the ages of Harry and Ron (Nine) are relevant to the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

Harry Potter stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes. He had no idea what time it was, but judging by the dark of his cupboard he guessed that it was either very late at night or very early in the morning. Harry had no idea why, but he suddenly felt wide-awake.

Knowing that Aunt Petunia would make him get up early for school the next day, Harry rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. To his bewilderment, the more he tried to get back to sleep the more he felt that he should get up. Frustrated, Harry finally gave up and slipped quietly out of his cupboard, thankful that his aunt usually had the inclination to leave it unlocked at night.

Harry slipped quietly into the kitchen, decided to risk flipping on the kitchen light, and climbed up onto a counter so he could reach the cupboards. He felt that some tea might help him get back to sleep, so he put the kettle on the stove with some water and a tea bag to boil. He left the lid off to let the steam escape. He knew full well what would happen if the kettle whistled and woke the Dursleys.

Harry reached into the cupboard again and pulled down two mugs. _Wait__…__two?_ Harry grabbed one to put back, but found he didn't like the idea.

_This __is __ridiculous! __What __do __I __need __with __two __mugs?_ He went to put one back again but found yet again that he didn't like the idea. Blaming his odd impulse on tiredness, Harry decided to leave the extra cup alone for the time being and see what there was in the kitchen that he could eat without the Dursleys noticing.

As Harry was sneaking around the inside of number four Privet Drive, he didn't have the slightest idea that there was a boy his age sneaking around the _outside_of the house.

Ron Weasley was sore, tired, and completely lost. He had spent the last five minutes poking around this "Privet Drive" trying to figure out where he was. Unfortunately he had found nothing so far except for dark windows and houses that all looked exactly alike. Ron figured he must be in a muggle town because he had never seen wizards copy each other's houses like this. Still, there was nothing on this street that would be of any use to him. He was just about to leave the street to look elsewhere when he saw a light flick on in the house next to him.

The light came from a window towards the back of the house so Ron crept quietly into the yard and peered cautiously through a window.

There was a boy in baggy clothes and glasses moving around the kitchen. He was about the size of his little sister Ginny so Ron guessed him to be a year or two younger than himself. He watched the boy making tea and he suddenly realized how thirsty he was. Ron wondered if muggles were picky about having visitors. If they weren't maybe he could knock on the kitchen door and ask for a drink.

He was contemplating this when the boy looked suddenly in his direction and jumped back in alarm. Ron gasped and ducked down beneath the window. He crouched in the lawn, not daring to move. After a few tense seconds he heard a door open and a small voice rang through the night.

"Hello?"

The speaker sounded frightened and uneasy. Ron felt exactly the same way, but he knew that sitting here all night wasn't going to do him any good, so he gathered his courage and replied. After all, he didn't have much to fear from a short little muggle boy, right?

"Hi" Ron croaked.

Ron heard a gasp and a pale face peeked around the corner of the house.

"W-who's there?" the pale boy said, looking like he'd quite like to duck back behind the house again.

"My name's Ron, who are you?" asked Ron standing up.

The boy seemed to realize that the person he was talking to was around his age, and stepped out from behind the house looking a little more confident.

"I'm Harry" said the boy simply. "Why were you looking through the window?" he asked, looking suspiciously at Ron.

Ron fidgeted nervously, but stopped quickly. His fingers were still in an awful lot of pain.

"I'm a little lost" Ron admitted nervously. "I need some help figuring out where I am and…" Ron tried not to be rude and straightforward, he really did, but his mouth seemed to speak without his permission. "I'm really thirsty, can I have some tea?"

The boy looked at him strangely, and seemed to be considering something. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, hesitating. A few seconds later, he adjusted his glasses nervously and said:

"Um, I can bring you some tea, but…I need you to wait out here, and please be really, really quiet. If the Dursleys find you're here and I'm talking to you then I'm going to be in lots of trouble."

"Okay" said Ron slightly unnerved at the look of fear and apprehension on the smaller boy's face. Harry went into the kitchen to finish making the tea, but Ron didn't watch him this time, he was to busy worrying about what the boy had said to him.

_Who __are __the __Dusleys? __They__'__re __muggles __right? __Why __will __they __be __mad __that __I__'__m __here? __Are __these __muggles __unfriendly? __Do __muggles __not __like __guests? __Or __is it __just __because __it__'__s __late __that __they__'__d __get __mad?_

Ron's thoughts were interrupted when Harry came outside barefoot balancing two cups of tea and a bag on a tea tray.

Harry set the tray down on the lawn and sat down, opening the bag.

"I found some pretzels in the top cupboard. Aunt Petunia bought them a few weeks ago because Dudley threatened to throw a tantrum if she didn't, but he's completely forgotten about them. They were way in the back of the shelf, so I don't think even Aunt Petunia will notice that they're gone."

Harry looked quite pleased with himself as he offered the bag to Ron. Ron tried to take a—had Harry called them pretzels?—but one of his raw fingers hit the plastic on the bag and he hissed, flinching back in pain. Harry's eyes widened as he looked down at Ron's hands. There wasn't a whole lot of light but he could see the blood.

"You're hurt" said Harry.

Ron nodded.

"My finger nails got torn off" he mumbled.

"How?" asked Harry in surprise and revulsion.

"I got splinched" said Ron miserably.

"Er, splinched?" asked Harry.

"I left part of myself behind when I disapperated" explained Ron.

"What's disapperated?" asked Harry now thoroughly confused.

Ron didn't say anything. He was now sure without a doubt that this boy was a muggle and he didn't want to break the…what had his dad called it? Ah! The statute of secrecy.

"I'll get you some Band-Aids" said Harry, deciding not to pry. _The __Dursleys __hate __it __when __I __ask __questions, __so __maybe __this __boy __does __too?_ He thought. Harry was very confused about this strange boy, and he was still very curious as to what could cause one's fingernails to be ripped off all at once.

Ron sipped his tea while holding his hands around the cup with his palms rather than his fingers. He relished the refreshment as Harry went into the house. When he came back he was holding a box, some paper towels, and a curious looking brown bottle.

Harry plopped down in front of Ron.

"I'm going to put some of this on your fingers" he said, holding up the brown bottle.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

"A disinfectant" said Harry.

"It'll clean your wounds" said Harry shortly, seeing the confused look on Ron's face.

Ron allowed Harry to put some of the stuff on his fingers, only to jerk back with a yell as whatever it was hit his skin.

Harry clapped a hand over Ron's mouth to silence him.

"Quiet! You'll get me in trouble!" he hissed.

"That hurts!" Ron whined, sounding close to tears.

"Yeah, but if you put it on you won't get an infection!" protested Harry.

"No way, that stuff hurts, can't you use something else? Don't you have anything that can make my nails grow back?" asked Ron.

"No" said Harry looking at Ron like he was crazy.

Ron went to protest again when Harry cut him off.

"Listen, this is what I've got, and unless you want to walk around with your fingers like that you should let me help you" his tone was firm, but kind. He was looking at him with concern. Ron glanced warily at the brown bottle, then at Harry's face. He sighed and held his hands out in silent agreement.

So Harry cleaned up Ron's fingers and put a Band-Aid on the end of each one. By the time it was over Ron's eyes were red from holding back tears of pain and his fingers were throbbing, but at least he felt a little better. He was even able to maneuver his fingers enough to eat some of the 'pretzels' that Harry had brought out. They were quite good. Harry had left Ron to his own devices yet again so that he could put away the medical supplies. When he came back he grabbed a pretzel and looked at Ron with a serious expression on his face.

"So" he said, completely forgetting his notion that Ron might hate questions like the Dursleys did, "what are you doing out here this late anyway?"

Ron gulped, trying to decide weather or not to trust this boy.

_Well,_thought Ron, _he__'__s __been __helping __me __this __whole __time __despite __the __fact __that __it __would __make __the__…__(Dursleys?)__angry._

Ron took a breath and said:

"I left home. I came here and I don't know what city I'm in."

"You're in Little Whinging" said Harry, "did you travel far? You must have if you don't know what city you're in. But why haven't you got any luggage?"

"It's a long story" said Ron uncomfortably, "Umm, where is Little Whinging?"

"Surrey" said Harry slowly. He paused "are you pulling my leg or something? I mean, you can't have come all that far without any luggage."

"No, no, I'm just really lost I uhh…" Ron tried to think of a method of transportation that would excuse his being here, from a muggle point of view…Man, this was hard! An image of the Hogwarts express popped into Ron's mind and an idea formed in his mind.

"I—I took a train! Yeah, and when I woke up I was at the last stop and they made me get off. They said they'd lost my luggage, and I was so upset that I left without finding out where I was" he lied.

_Yeah, __that__'__s __a __right __good __excuse, __that __is,_thought Ron.

"Ohh" said Harry. A pause, then

"Where were you going to go?"

"London" said Ron. This wasn't a lie; he really had been planning on heading to London. He had planned on walking to a wizarding shop a few miles from his house and asking to use the fireplace. He had planned on going to Diagon Alley and getting a disguise. But now he had no money, no supplies, and he was in a muggle town with no floo powder. Before Ron could really start fretting over his situation however, Harry asked him another question

"Why did you decide to go to London?" he inquired.

"I—I heard that certain _parts _of London had jobs for kids my age. That way I could make money and live on my own" said Ron carefully, being sure to leave out the fact that the "part" of London he was looking into was Knockturn Alley.

Harry looked at him thoughtfully.

"Are you really going to be able to get a job and live all by yourself?" he asked.

"Of course!" said Ron.

"But I thought people weren't supposed to hire kids" said Harry frowning.

"Weeelll" Ron looked uncomfortable. "They're not really _supposed_ to, but I really need a job."

"And you think someone will just hire you?" asked Harry skeptically.

"I know a place in London where people hire kids" said Ron, "they do it all the time, they don't care so long as the kids keep their mouths shut."

"Hmm," said Harry looking interested in the new concept, but he was still a bit skeptical of it.

"How are you going to get there?" Harry asked.

"I-I don't know" Ron admitted, looking nervous.

"Do you have money? You could take a train."

"My money was in my luggage. All I've got are the robes on my back and Scabbers" said Ron glumly.

"Robes?" asked Harry confused "what like the kind wizards wear?"

"You know about wizards?" asked Ron, dropping a pretzel in surprise.

"Ummm….Yes?" said Harry uncertainly thinking of the storybook he had read in the school library.

"That's brilliant!" said Ron grinning. "I thought this was a muggle town, how many wizards live around here, do you think anyone will let me use their floo powder? Wait—hang on" Ron stared at Harry, then his eyes flicked up to the scar on his forehead.

"You're Harry Potter!" Ron yelped.

"How did you know my surname?" asked Harry looking completely confused.

"Everyone knows your name; you're Harry Potter, you're famous!"

"No I'm not" said Harry his eyebrows crinkling.

"You are! You defeated the You-know-who when you were a baby and ended the big war!"

"You-know—what?" Harry demanded now completely lost.

"You-know-who! The most evil wizard of all time!" said Ron in disbelief. _He __knows __about __wizards __but __not __You-know-who?_ Ron thought.

Harry looked confused, then understanding dawned on his face as he reached a conclusion. He leaned away from Ron and regarded him coldly.

"Dudley put you up to this didn't he?" he asked quietly.

"Who's Dudley?" asked Ron.

Harry stood up.

"Nice try, Ron, but everyone knows there's no such thing as magic" he whispered. The air around the boys solidified with tension.

"But—you said you knew about wizards" said Ron looking confused.

"I do, they're made up people who you read about in story books" Harry snarled. "You're trying to get me in trouble aren't you? Trying to make me think there's wizards so people will think I'm even more of a freak. Well you're not fooling me!" said Harry snatching up the tea tray.

"But wizards are real!" said Ron desperately, confused by the boy's sudden anger. "You're a wizard! Your parents were too!"

"Don't talk about my parents!" Harry growled and one of the tea-cups on the tray exploded suddenly.

Harry and Ron stared at it. There was silence as tea spilled off the tray and onto the ground. Harry and Ron looked at each other and Ron saw how scared Harry looked.

"If there's no such thing as magic, then how did that happen?" asked Ron quietly.

"I—I" stuttered Harry looking upset.

"Come on, Harry" said Ron. "That can't be the first time you've done something like that.

"But I didn't do anything! It wasn't my fault, it just…happened!" Harry insisted.

Ron looked at him, thinking. _That __was __definitely __him __who __made __the __cup __explode. __Why __won__'__t __he __admit __it?__Accidental __magic __is __really __cool!__It__'__s __like __being __a __wizard __without __a __wand! __Yet __again, __if __he __doesn__'__t __know __about __magic, __then __he __must __live __with __muggles __and __Dad __says __some __muggles __are __afraid __of __magic. __Harry __looks __kind __of __afraid. __Maybe t__he __muggles __don__'__t __like __his __magic?_

_I __wonder__…__Maybe __if __I __tell __him a__bout __my __accidental __magic, __maybe __he __won__'__t __feel __so __scared __of __talking __about __it._Ron was satisfied with this idea and spoke.

"When I was seven I was standing on the roof of my house because Fred dared me too. I tripped and fell. Our house was really tall and I was so scared. I wanted Dad to come and save me, I closed my eyes and when opened them I was in Dad's shed, sitting right next to him" said Ron. "Has anything like that ever happened to you?" he asked.

Harry found himself nodding despite his suspicions.

"Dudley and his gang were chasing me. Then I was on the roof" he said.

Ron nodded knowingly. "I got hurt once when I was out with Percy. My arm was bleeding like mad, and I had to walk for a long time to get back home. By the time I got there my arm was healed" said Ron.

"The same thing happened to me when Dudley punched me in the face and my nose kept bleeding!" exclaimed Harry. "It hurt so bad, but then it felt all funny an it didn't look all crumpled and bent anymore and the blood stopped."

"I made the vegetables on my plate vanish!" chimed in Ron excitedly.

"I made an ugly sweater shrink so it wouldn't fit me!" said Harry, adopting some of Ron's excitement against his better judgment.

Ron grinned. "When I was seven I turned Percy's robes pink when he was being annoying."

"I turned my teacher's wig blue!" exclaimed Harry.

"Really?" asked Ron. "Wow, that's even better than turning someone's robes pink!"

The two boys laughed at the idea of a teacher's wig turning blue, after a while, they soon settled into a silence.

Harry saw Ron yawn and suddenly remembered how late it was. Harry wondered where a runaway boy like Ron could stay for a night. That's when he came up with an idea. A crazy, stupid, idea, but for some unknown reason, he blurted it out without hesitation.

"I'm don't think I believe you—" Ron made opened his mouth to argue, but Harry kept speaking, drowning out the beginning of the older boys sentence.

"but wizard or not, you don't have anywhere to go."

Ron nodded, looking nervous at that prospect.

"I have a plan, but you _have_ to promise that you'll do exactly as I say. If you don't we'll both be in a _terrifying__amount_ of trouble, and believe me, I don't use that term lightly" said Harry fixing Ron with an astonishingly stern look.

"Okay" said Ron uneasily, "what's the plan?"

"Well," said Harry "you can sleep with me tonight, the Dursleys never come and check on me. In the morning Uncle Vernon gets up for work and Aunt Petunia will come and wake me up for school and I'll go out while you stay hidden.

Uncle Vernon will leave first, then Aunt Petunia will take me and my cousin to school.

When the house is empty you slip out of the house and go and wait at the playground a few blocks away, I'll meet you there after school and we'll figure out what to do" said Harry decisively.

"Will your Aunt let you come to the playground after you're done with school?" asked Ron.

Harry frowned and put a hand to his lower lip, thinking.

"Nooo…" he said slowly, "but…" a smirk slowly spread its way across Harry's face, "I think I know how I can convince her."


	3. Stolen Cakes

Ron followed Harry stealthily into the Dursley's house. He followed him down a hallway, and expected to go up the stairs, but was surprised when Harry stopped at the cupboard under the stairs, opened it, and climbed in. Ron stood there, confused until Harry beckoned him in after him.

Ron slipped into the cupboard and was surprised to see some blankets and pillows. A bundle of clothes lay in the corner and there was a small shelf with some school supplies and—

Ron leapt out of the cupboard with a suppressed scream.

"Shut up" Harry hissed angrily. "What's the matter with you?"

"There's spiders in there!" Ron hissed back.

"So?" asked Harry. He was around spiders all the time; he didn't see why Ron was so upset.

"I—I can't sleep with spiders" said Ron shaking his head violently.

"Well there's no other option," said Harry.

"Can't we sleep in your bedroom?" asked Ron.

"This is my bedroom," said Harry angrily, blushing.

Ron stared at him.

"Muggles live in spider cupboards?" he asked incredulously.

Harry sighed. "No, just me. The Dursley's didn't want to waste a bedroom on me so I sleep here, if you don't like it you can leave" he said bluntly. Though as he said this his heart sunk. He really didn't want Ron to leave. He liked Ron, he was interesting, and Harry wanted to help him.

Ron gulped.

"Are—Are there a whole lot of spiders in there?" he asked.

"No" Harry lied firmly.

"Well, I guess I can try," said Ron.

He climbed slowly into the cupboard and sat down next to Harry, taking deep breathes. Harry looked at Ron, suddenly feeling bad. Ron was really scared. Harry wasn't afraid of spiders but he was afraid of Dudley and his gang.

Harry could only imagine how scared he would be if he had to get into an enclosed space with those brutes.

Ron felt something on his arm and froze. Harry looked at what Ron was staring at. A big spider was crawling on him.

Harry didn't know why he did it. It was instinct he supposed. He opened his mouth and an ominous hissing filled the cupboard. It was as if a gigantic snake were in there with them and the spider leapt off of Ron and ran from the cupboard. In fact, there was a small scuffle and suddenly over a dozen spiders ran across the walls of the cupboard and scurried out the door. The spiders were moving so fast; it was if they were running for their lives.

Ron clutched at Harry's arm as this happened and sniffled, trying not to cry.

After a moment he let go of Harry and took a shaky breath.

"D-Did you scare away the spiders with your magic?" he asked.

"I-I guess" said Harry, shocked. They both sat there for a moment, then Harry laid down.

"We should go to sleep now," said Harry quietly.

"Y-Yea" said Ron.

The pair laid themselves down in the nest of pillows and blankets, convinced that it would take them hours to fall asleep after all that had occurred, but five minutes later the two boys were sleeping soundly.

The next morning, Harry and Ron were woken up by an angry pounding on the door.

"Get up!" They heard a female voice demand shrilly.

"I'm up Aunt Petunia!" called Harry nervously.

"Get dressed! We're leaving in fifteen minutes!" a pair of high heeled shoes click clacked away from the cupboard and Harry hastily pulled on a shirt. Ron backed away to give him room. He felt his finger snag on something and looked down, frowning. One of his Band-Aids had come off during the night and—

Ron grinned and peeled off all the Band-Aids. Stuffing them into his pocket he crawled over to where Harry was putting on his socks. He nudged Harry's shoulder and showed him the healthy new nails adorning all ten of his fingers.

"Still think I'm not a wizard?" Ron whispered.

Harry gaped at him.

"Wow" he whispered. The incredible sight made Harry want to stay and ask Ron more questions but—

"Ten minutes, boy!" his aunt yelled.

Harry hastily grabbed a sheet of paper, drew some lines and scribbled a few words on it. Handing the paper to Ron he whispered:

"This is a map to the play park. Go there after we leave the house."

Ron nodded and Harry slipped out of the cupboard.

Ron waited a good a couple minutes after he heard the front door close before he climbed stealthily out of the cupboard. Looking around the Dursley house he saw a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, and a small bathroom with the door slightly open. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to stay just a couple more minutes he slipped inside the bathroom. When he emerged, his face and hands now clean; he went into the kitchen to grab some food.

To his delight Ron found a box of individually wrapped snack cakes in the cupboard and the remainder of the "pretzels" that Harry had given him. Grabbing the cakes, and pretzels out of the cupboard, Ron looked around the kitchen and found some bananas on the counter. Ron snatched a few and hurried out of the house.

It took nearly half an hour for Ron to find the play park. It wasn't far away; it was just hard for him to properly decipher Harry's instructions. When Ron arrived he saw several curved…things…suspended by chains that were attached to metal bars. He stared at them curiously, wondering their purpose.

Ron set his food down and looked around the rest of the playground. He saw a sort of metal fort with ladders and slides. He also saw rings dangling suspended off the ground. Ron climbed the fort and went down the slide. Ron knew what slides were, but he rarely saw them anywhere except for on trick staircases. He could see why muggles used them for amusement though. The sensation you got when going down them was kind of fun, it was almost like flying.

Ron heard a shriek of joy and turned around to see a little boy that was younger than his little sister climbing the fort.

"Mummy! Mummy! Help me go on the monkey bars!" He called.

His mother obliged and held the boy gently around the middle as he went across the rings.

Intrigued, Ron waited until the boy was finished and climbed the fort again. He looked at the rings. The other boy had to have his mum hold him for this, but he felt no need for that. The rings weren't that high off the ground.

So Ron gripped the bars and went across. It was fairly easy, though dangling above the ground was a tad unnerving without having a broom underneath to support you.

Ron heard a squeak and saw the boy sitting on one of the chain suspended things. The boy rose high into the air and fell back down, but then he swung backwards high into the air and swung back down, it was like a pendulum. Ron was fascinated.

He clambered onto a swing and eagerly waited for it to move.

It didn't.

Ron frowned.

The kid had to have someone push him…yet again the kid had also needed help on the (he had called them monkey bars?) so maybe it was just because he was little that he needed help.

Ron leaned forward, the way he would if he'd been riding a broom, but still the device would not yield. Ron kept trying, moving his legs forward and backwards. A giggle sounded from next to him.

Ron looked over and saw a girl who looked a bit older than the little boy.

"Silly, you need to move your legs like this" she demonstrated a strange leg movement. Ron tried it and to his surprise the swing moved.

Ron did the leg motion repeatedly, pleased when he got a little higher each time. Before he knew it Ron was high above the ground. He laughed.

_Muggles__really__are__good__at__finding__ways__to__pretend__to__fly._ Thought Ron. True, it wasn't as exciting as flying, but something about the way the device (he heard one of the kids call it a swing) moved was very entertaining.

Ron stayed on the swings until his rear end was too sore to continue, then he ate some of the food he'd set down and laid in the shade of an elm tree.

Ron smiled as a breeze tickled his freckles and slept for the next few hours.

Meanwhile Harry was going through the school day. As usual he was friendless thanks to Dudley and his gang, but he didn't mind so much today, he was looking forward to seeing Ron again after school, he had so many questions to ask about wizards, but first he had to _get_to the playground. He had been forming a plan. When the final bell rang for the day he was quick to put his plan in motion.

Harry did something he never imagined he would do, he ran up to Dudley.

"Dudley," said Harry.

The boy turned around.

"What do _you_ want freak?"

"I need a favor," said Harry.

"Why would I do any favors for a freak like you?" asked Dudley giving Harry a slight push.

Harry stumbled backwards.

"It'll benefit you more than it benefits me," said Harry standing his ground while trying not to shake in fear at the boy looming over him.

Dudley didn't reply, but Harry could tell that he'd piqued his interest.

"I want Aunt Petunia to drop me off at the play park after school today. If you tell her that you'd had a really bad day and wanted an ice cream, she'd get you one.

The thing is though, she hates having me around so she'll get it to go instead of eating it inside and you won't be able to order a second helping. If I wasn't with you she would stay long enough for a second helping, but she wouldn't want me home by myself. If you tell her to just drop me off at the play park you two can get ice cream and you can bully her into buying seconds, and you'll probably be able to convince her to buy you a toy from the shop next to the ice cream parlor."

Dudley looked thoughtful.

"So…So…you would get to go to the play park, but I would get ice-cream and toys?" he asked.

"Exactly!" said Harry. "Think about how many things you'll be able to convince your mum to buy when she doesn't have me to worry about."

Dudley glared at Harry.

"Okay, I'll do it, but you have to do my homework for me tonight," said Dudley.

"Deal," said Harry.

So the two boys headed out to the car where Harry's aunt was waiting.

Dudley climbed into the front seat while Harry climbed into the back.

"How was your day popkin?" asked Petunia, looking at her son fondly.

Dudley promptly burst into fake tears.

"What's wrong Diddykins?" asked Petunia, reaching over and throwing her arms around Dudley.

"I h-had a bad daaaaaayyyyy," Dudley sobbed. "Everyone was s-so m-mean to me!"

"Who was mean to you darling? Tell me their names, I'll call your school right away!"

Dudley sniffed theatrically and said.

"I d-don't want that it w-w-would make things worse, I think they'll leave me alone t-tomorrow, but they were just so meeean!" Dudley whimpered.

"Oh, my poor Diddykins, is there anything I can do to make it better?" asked Petunia.

"W-Well. Maybe S-Some I-I-Ice cream would be nice," He took the opportunity to glare back at Harry, "I don't want him to come though!" he said.

"He always r-r-ruins things for me! I know you can't leave that freak alone in the house, but can't you drop him off at the play park?" asked Dudley.

"Of course sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, putting then car in drive and heading out. Harry kept a straight face, not wanting to ruin the plan. When Harry got out at the play park his aunt leaned out of the window and hissed.

"You stay here and don't cause a scene. If there's any trouble, your uncle shall know about it!"

Harry nodded nervously and watched as she drove away. Harry looked around the park and saw Ron, sleeping under the shade of a tree.

Harry hurried over and shook him.

"Wha—? Oh, hi Harry," said Ron.

"Hey, Ron" said Harry, sitting down next to him.

Ron held out the box of cakes to Harry.

"Have you tried these? They're brilliant!" said Ron with a grin. Harry looked at the box of cakes and went pale.

"Where did you get those?" he asked, looking suddenly frightened.

"The cupboards at your house why?" Ron looked at Harry and saw him looking at the ground as if not really seeing it.

"Those were Dudley's cakes," said Harry, his voice wavering. When the Dursley's find out…They'll kill me."

Ron looked confused.

"Do cakes hold some kind of importance to muggles?" asked Ron in confusion.

Harry shook his head.

"No, Dudley just likes them."

"Then why would they be mad? There's another box in the cupboard at your house, Dudley can have those," said Ron.

"You don't get it," Harry snapped angrily. "The Dursley's hate me! My aunt and uncle only care about my 'precious' cousin Dudley. When they find out those cakes are missing they'll say I stole them, Uncle Vernon will beat me black and blue and stuff me in my cupboard! And no amount of your so called 'magic' will make the feeling of a stomach that's gone two days without food any better!"

Harry was shouting by the end of this tirade and he was shaking.

Ron stared at him.

"You family would do that?" he asked, eyeing the boy up and down.

Harry gave an angry sort of hysterical laugh.

"Of course they would! What am I to them? A waste of space! A reject! A freak! They hate me! And, and—" Harry's eyes filled with tears and the angry edge in his voice was replaced with one of pure misery "and I don't even know why." Harry buried his face in his knees and hid his tears.

"How come everyone treats me like I'm some sort of monster? Why do they hate me so much?" Harry was holding back sobs.

Ron frowned. He didn't know what to say. What _could_he say? He'd gotten Harry into trouble and said boy was currently having a break down on the grass next to him. Ron did the only thing he could think of, he pulled Harry into a hug.

Harry instinctively flinched and tried to push him away, but Ron held on tighter, trying to calm Harry down.

"It's okay," said Ron, patting the boy's back uncertainly. "It's okay."

Harry stopped struggling and his shoulders shook a little.

"No it's not," he whispered.

Ron just sat next to the boy as he shook in pain and fear, holding him the way his mother held his sister when she was upset.

He thought for a minute before letting go of Harry and scuttling around until he was facing the younger boy.

Harry did not meet his eyes, so Ron put a hand on his shoulder and asked.

"Do you want to see the wizarding world?"

Harry looked up, his eyes red.

"C-Can I?" he asked.

"You can if you come with me to London," said Ron.

Harry hesitated.

"Is—is it possible for us to make it on our own in—in your world?" he asked

"Well, that's what I'm going to try, and if you come with me, we'll have a better chance," said Ron.

Harry looked away, thinking.

"Look," said Ron, "if anyone's got reason to run away, it's you. You said it yourself, there's nothing for you with the Dursleys. Those gits aren't family; they're mean old muggles. The way I see it we might as well stick together, it'll be better for both of us and…" Ron looked at Harry's face, "I've always thought it'd have been nice, to have a little brother."

Harry didn't look at Ron, but he stood up looking determined.

"Well, if we're going to leave we should do it now, my aunt will be coming to pick me up and I don't want to be here when she does," Harry narrowed his eyes, thinking. Then in one swift movement he grabbed the food Ron had brought and stuffed it into his backpack.

"Come on, Ron," said Harry. "We're going to the train station."


	4. Weasleys

**Thanks to Raven Potter Weasley, who asked for the update. I know you all are probably wanting to know what happened to Harry and Ron but I needed for this bit to come first and figured it was best to update with the chapter I had ready rather than waiting until I'd written chapter five. Anyway, hope you like the Weasley's take on the situation. **

Back at the burrow house the Weasley's kitchen was filled with energy and movement. It was after dawn by the time the Weasleys managed to get through reporting to the ministry and getting a hold of the people they needed to start the search, but now things were in full swing, despite it being only eight in the morning.

"Bill what've you got?" Arthur asked his oldest son as he walked in the door.

Even though Bill—who had come of age during his sixth year—was only beginning his last year at Hogwarts, and Charlie was only just starting his fifth year, Arthur had pulled them from school for the weekend so they could help with the search for Ron. If the war had taught Arthur anything, it was that young wizards are never to be taken lightly, and he knew that his two oldest sons would be of great help despite the fact that they were not yet fully qualified Wizards. Bill, for instance, had made several useful contacts over the summer during an internship at Gringotts Bank. Bill had just spent the last couple of hours utilizing those contacts.

"A certain group of Gringotts Goblins have been coveting that ring I inherited from Uncle Billious for ages now, I offered it up as bounty for anyone who brings Ron to us alive and well. Two of them said they'd start tracking him down straightaway. News spreads fast around Gringotts, they wanted to get ahead of the competition."

"Good boy, Bill," said Mr. Weasley squeezing his son's shoulder in gratitude. He was filled with pride at how his eldest had volunteered to give up his most prized possession without so much as a flinch.

Bill himself didn't give the ring a second thought; he was too worried about Ron. Bill would never admit it to anyone but himself but he was much more protective of Ron than he was of his other brothers. The boy had, after all, been traumatized into fearing spiders, almost killed through making an Unbreakable Vow, and had a hole burnt through his tongue, by the twins' antics alone, never mind the mischief he got into on his own.

His mother was always so busy, that he often took it upon himself when he was growing up to keep track of Ron when his mother was busy or distracted. The thought of Ron running around alone in the cold without any fingernails made him more upset then he could express in words.

Bill was broken out of his worried thoughts as his brother Charlie poked his head out of the fire.

"Just spoke to my friend from the magical creature reserve I volunteered at over the summer, he said he's got a couple owls he's been training in tracking and agreed to send them out to find him. He also said that his girlfriend has a creature that'll be able to help too. He wouldn't say what it was, so I think it's one of her illegal crossbreeds, but he promised that whatever it was is harmless."

"Excellent!" said Mr. Weasley, "do you have any more contacts?"

Charlie shook his head sadly.

"He was the last person I could think of to call."

"That's alright," said Mr. Weasley, "Mad-eye wants a few memories from family members. Think you could give him a few? He wants to see how Ron acted when Molly and I weren't present, he reckons it'll give him some insight into how Ron thinks."

Charlie nodded and headed upstairs to where Mad-eye was waiting upstairs.

Arthur had amazed his fellow ministry workers by not only gaining Dumbeldore's help with his son's case, but he'd also managed to get Mad-eye out of retirement for the search too. Mr. Weasley may not have been an official order member during the first war—he had to be much more subtle, given the fact that he had a horde of defenseless children at home with his wife—however, he always found ways to help out on the sly, which gained him many useful allies.

Mrs. Weasley brushed past, her hair fluttering around wildly.

"—can't believe I forgot the Loovegoods!" she exclaimed. The red-haired woman had spent the last couple hours mobilizing a small army of her fellow house-witches in keeping an eye out for her youngest son. The nosy, gossipy women would undoubtedly inform all the rest of Wizarding England of the situation, which is exactly what the Weasleys wanted. The more people searching for Ron, the better.

"We're running low on flue powder, Bill, can you pop over to Diagon Alley and get some more?" Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder.

"Will do," said Bill, heading out the door so he could disapperate.

"Daddy?" Ginny was tugging on Arthur's robes.

"Ah, there you are, Ginny. Mad-eye wanted to interview you about the last time you spoke with Ron," said Mr. Weasley, absentmindedly patting her head and taking her hand to lead her upstairs, but Ginny resisted. He looked down at her.

"Why is everyone running around the house?" she asked, looking confused.

"Sorry?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Ginny scowled as if he were being very stupid.

"Why is everyone running around inside when Ron is outside? Can't we all just go out and look for him? Maybe he's in the woods, or in the fields, or at Hogwarts, or Diagon—"

"It isn't that simple," said Arthur sadly. "He could be any of those places but he could be anywhere else too. The best we can do is get the word about Ron out as much as we can and try and find any clues we can to help," he said.

"…Fine, but we should go check by the creek after I talk to Scary-eye," she grumbled. The two walked out of the room, leaving Mrs. Weasley kneeling in front of the fire calling out into the Lovegood house.

"Mr. Lovegood? Mrs. Lovegood?" she hollered out. She heard silence. At first the she thought that no one was home, but suddenly a little blonde girl around Ginny's age sprinted into view.

"Help, please help!" the little girl screamed desperately at Mrs. Weasley, tears streaming down her face. Molly knew the Lovegoods rather well; given the fact her daughter would often hang out with their daughter, because of this Molly knew at once that the sight of happy, fairy-like, Luna, in tears meant that something had to be terribly wrong.

Momentarily forgetting about her mission, Mrs. Weasley forced herself all the way through the grate and into the Loovegood house. Luna grabbed Mrs. Weasley's hand and sprinted with her into a room downstairs.

Mrs. Weasley gasped at what she saw. Xenophilius's wife was on the floor, convulsing. Blood was leaking from her mouth and she was gasping. It looked like she was being tortured by an invisible deatheater.

Mrs. Weasley didn't hesitate, she snatched Luna up by the waist and took hold of Mrs. Lovegood's hand. There was a hint of a pause as Mrs. Weasley cleared her mind, then suddenly the three disappeared and reappeared in the emergency-apparition entrance hall of St. Mungo's.

"Healer!" Mrs. Weasley screamed as Luna laid on the ground, shell shocked from the abrupt apparition.

A wizard sprinted over and took up Mrs. Lovegood at once with a levitation charm. He ran towards one of the doors off the entrance as a witch hurried over to Mrs. Weasley.

"What happened to her?" she demanded calmly, but firmly.

"I don't know, I was just flue-calling her when Luna came in, she said, gesturing at the horrified child huddled up next to her. Luna let out a sob and Mrs. Weasley gathered the girl into her arms and set her gently on her lap.

"Hush now, dear, it's alright, it's alright," said Molly soothingly.

The healer pulled a smaller bottle from her robes.

"This is a small dose of calming draught," she said to Mrs. Weasley, "I'm going to need her to drink it."

Mrs. Weasley nodded and helped the witch get the shaken up Luna to swallow the potion. Once it took affect Luna's eye-lids started to fall and she blinked slowly.

"What happened to your mother, dear?" asked the witch.

"She was practicing a spell, a brand new spell. She was trying to invent a new charm for breathing underwater. She said something I don't remember, then she started breathing funny and blood came out of her mouth and…" Luna started crying quietly, "I didn't know what to do, then I heard Mrs. Weasley."

The witch quickly cast a patronous and sent it after the wizard who was caring for Luna's mother to relay the information.

"I will need to examine her," the Healer told Molly. "She might have been affected, being nearby when a spell backfired so violently. You will need to go to the waiting room and fill out a report.

Molly nodded.

"I'll contact her father," she said.

With that, the Healer carried the sad, docile, Luna back into a separate wing from where her mother was taken.

Molly turned and walked away, the shock of what had just happened was starting to set in and she felt like giving up and sobbing on the floor. First her son, and now this, it was all too much. She didn't give up, or cry though; she had more important things to do. Mrs. Weasley marched into the waiting room with her jaw set, sent an owl to Mr. Lovegood, and filled out a report for the hospital. She wanted to sit down after that, she was so overwhelmed, but she was afraid that if she did she wouldn't get up again.

The adrenaline rush from the search for her son and the sudden crisis at the Lovegood house had finally left her and she felt exhausted. Still, she pictured her little boy's face in her mind and that gave her enough strength to grit her teeth and go seek out a fireplace.

"Arthur!" she called, her head in the burrow fireplace. Bill peeked into the kitchen, took one look at the fire, and dashed off to fetch his father.

Arthur Weasley hurried into the kitchen, confused as to why his wife was calling rather than just coming home to talk with him.

"Arthur, I flue-called the Lovegood house. Arthur, it was bad. Luna—she was screaming—"

Arthur's jaw dropped and he crouched to the floor in front of his wife and spoke urgently.

"Luna? Screaming? What happened?"

"Mrs. Lovegood was working on a charm, it went wrong, very wrong. She was—it was awful. I took them both to St. Mungo's that's where I am now, I contacted Xenophilius. I—I was thinking I'd leave Charlie or someone to wait for him…"

"No, Molly," said Arthur firmly as his thoughts whirled. "No, it has to be you, he'll want to talk to someone who was there and he'll need someone who can provide proper reassurance," he told her.

"But, Ron—" said Mrs. Weasley desperately.

"I know Molly, but you've done all you can for the time being, I promise you, coming home right now won't be productive. You're needed there, we'll tell you if there's any news on Ron."

"No, I need to be there, I need to—"

"Molly, we've called in favors from every Wizard, Witch, and Goblin in half of Britain today. There's a horde of people looking for Ron, but you're the only person who can be there for Mr. Lovegood right now. Think about what you would want if you were in his shoes."

Molly almost cried at the image of her husband on the floor bleeding instead of Marigold Lovegood and Ginny screaming for help instead of Luna. She pushed the image from her mind and sighed.

"You're right, I know…" tears filled her eyes, "but I'm so worried about him."

"I know you are, dear, we all are, but there's nothing else we can do right now. Go, be there for the Lovegoods."

Mrs. Weasley looked into her husband's tired face and gave a reluctant nod.

"You hear anything then you send one of the boys over to tell me straightaway, you understand?" demanded Mrs. Weasley sternly.

"Of course, dear."

Just then a racket started up in the room next door and Xenophilius's unmistakable voice echoed from the room next door. He was shouting at someone.

Molly and Arthur exchanged surprised looks, but Arthur recovered first.

"Go, Molly."

Molly pulled her head from the fireplace and hurried into the next room.

She squared her shoulders and went of to placate the enraged editor of the Quibbler. He was currently screaming at the poor woman behind the desk. It was a far cry form the peaceful man she'd known for almost a decade, but yet again family crisis could put a little firewhisky in anyone's soul.

"I don't care about your nitwitted, pointless regulations, you let me see my wife and daughter or else I will infest your house with nargles, and—"

"Xenophilius!" Molly called.

The man whirled around. He forgot all about the receptionist that he had been terrifying and hurried up to her.

"Molly! I heard you were there, what happened, what happened to my wife, to my little Luna? Where are they?"

"Luna should be fine," said Mrs. Weasley calmly. "She's pretty shaken up, but she seems fine. The healer did have to take her back just to double check but I think it was only your wife that got hit," she said.

"What happened, when she was hit…what happened?" Mr. Lovegood demanded.

"Luna said Marigold was creating a charm for breathing under water, but it didn't work out very well."

"Do you think she'll be okay?" asked the man frantically.

Molly looked into the man's eyes, gritted her teeth and forced herself to tell the cold, terrible truth.

"I don't know. It was bad, Xenophilias it—it looked like she'd been cursed. She was still breathing when I brought her it though. She has a chance, I just—don't know how big of a chance it is.

Mr. Lovegood closed his eyes and went down, hard and fast onto his knees. Mrs. Weasley knelt down next to the man as he started sobbing. Molly felt like joining him, this was one of the worst days of her life. She woke up to find her son gone and the evidence of her failure as a parent stuck to the face of a clock in an envelope labeled _Mum, _then she found Marigold dying…

Molly shoved the thoughts away, summoning her Gryffindor courage. She pulled him to his feet after that and sat him down in one of the waiting room chairs.

Mr. Lovegood bowed his head and took a bright orange tissue from his pocket, pressing it to his nose, which was starting to stream. After a few moments he pulled the tissue away and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a notebook and handed it to Molly. She looked at it curiously.

"That's what I was doing when it happened," he said tiredly. "She said she wanted to try a new spell, she was just dying to try it. I'm always there to safeguard against things like—"Xenophilius rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

"I wasn't there today though. I told her she'd have to wait, that I had to meet a man for some more information on nargles. It turned out to be a two day trip. She'd been so excited about that spell, I should have gone home even for just an hour, just so she could try it. But I didn't I—"

Mr. Lovegood grabbed the notebook and threw it across the room.

"I was too busy getting some stupid facts about bleeding nargles!" He bellowed.

A healer came over with a vial of potion to calm him, since the first dose was clearly not working well enough.

"No!" said Xenophilius angrily. "No potions, do you hear me? I want to be aware of what's going on. My family needs me, I refuse to become a fog-brained mess!" he growled.

The healer's eyes narrowed. Mrs. Weasley grabbed Xenophilius by the shoulder.

"You listen to me," she muttered, keeping one eye on the menacing healer. "I know it's hard, but if you don't calm down they'll make you take whatever potion they see fit whether you like it or not. I can get them to back off, but I need you to keep your voice down and you need to stop throwing things," she told him swiftly.

Xenophilius clenched his fists, but nodded at her. Mrs. Weasley then turned her attention to the healer.

"He's fine, really he's okay now," Mrs. Weasley assured her.

The Healer didn't look like she believed Mrs. Weasley at all, but she didn't argue.

"No more outbursts," she snapped, "you're disturbing the other visitors."

She gestured at the other three people in the waiting room.

"Accio!" The notebook Lovegood had thrown was suddenly in the Healer's hand. She tossed it on the seat next to Mr. Lovegood, "and stop littering the hospital." She stormed away after that.

Molly was tempted to throw a jinx at the woman, but she restrained herself.

It was silent for a while after that. For a moment Molly considered telling her friend about the situation with Ron, but she knew it would be wrong. As Arthur said, they had a whole horde of people searching for her son but in that moment Xenophilis only had her, she needed to help him get through the situation before she could even think of asking for his help. Still, she couldn't stop herself from worrying herself sick about her baby. Arthur said he was missing his fingernails. Was he hurt anywhere else? What if he apparated over an ocean? Or an active volcano? Her stomach turned.

Mr. Lovegood didn't notice Mrs. Weasley's distress his focus had snapped to a healer that was coming towards them.

"Mr. Lovegood?

The man stood up and Molly followed, wiping a tear from her eye.

The Healer was tall and thin, with bright blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Your daughter is ready to see you," he said, motioning for them to follow him.

Mr. Lovegood rushed to follow him, practically gluing himself to the man's heels, eager to see Luna as soon as possible.

"How is she?" asked Xenophilius

"Fine. The spell had no effect on her. The dose of calming draught we gave her is still affecting her. She's very drowsy, but other than that everything's completely normal."

Mr. Lovegood nodded and the trio saw a flash of blonde hair as they approached an open door. Xenophilius rushed past Molly and the healer and had his daughter in his arms before she could even register what was going on.

"Daddy?" she asked sleepily.

"My Luna, Oh, my Luna. I'm so glad you're okay," said Xenophilius.

"Is Mum okay?" asked Luna, frowning "the Healers won't tell me anything.

"They won't tell me anything either, but I'm sure she'll be fine," said Mr. Lovegood, holding his daughter in a tight hug so she couldn't lean back to see the worry and fear of his face.

Luna snuggled into her dad. She knew something was wrong, knew how horrible things were, but the potion blocked a lot of what she was feeling. The sensation confused her, but she couldn't even begin to sort things out, her thoughts were too vague at the moment. The best she could think to do was to cuddle up to her Dad and go to sleep. Mr. Lovegood stroked Luna's hair as her breathing evened out. He laid her gently on the hospital bed and pulled up a chair. He sat down and rested his arms on the bed after his chin rested on his left arm as he watched his daughter sleep.

Hours into the future and miles and miles away, two boys finally made it to the train station after asking for instructions at five different places and walking through the cold night for hours. Back on Private Drive Petunia Dursley was having a wonderful time being the center of attention as the police bought her concerned parent act and the neighbors tittered about poor Petunia and her runaway nephew. A cat sprinted from the bushes in front of the Dursley household and through the cat flap to Mrs. Figg's house. Moments later a flue call was made to Dumbeldore's office, where his silver instruments had suddenly gone wild.


	5. The Train

It was evening. Ginny and Luna were both squeezed into the same tiny armchair back at the burrow. Mr. Lovegood was reluctant to impose on them after he found out about Ron being missing but Mrs. Weasley insisted that both their daughters would be good company for each other and left him to sit with his wife, who was still unconscious, but stable. Ginny was holding the beloved toy hippogriff her brother had left with her in one hand and Luna's hand in the other. Luna was still slightly out of it from the calming draught they'd given her at St. Mungo's but the healers said she'd be back to her old self soon enough.

The two girls were very still. Ginny was too worried to talk and Luna was still in shock. The blonde girl gazed around the room listlessly. Her eyes found the little clock that her mother had admired. It had all nine members of the Weasley family on it.

Luna watched the little hand that housed Ron's picture. Currently it stated that it was traveling, but as she watched it started moving. Luna stared at the hand on the clock as it settled itself on a new destination. Her mouth opened, but she couldn't find the words to explain what she was seeing, so she nudged Ginny and pointed at the clock.

Ginny looked up and her mouth opened too, but she, like Luna couldn't even explain the ominous sensation she was feeling. So instead of speaking, she opened her mouth as wide as it would go and let out a scream of fear.

Bill, Charlie, Molly, and Arthur all ran into the room. They found Ginny crying and pointing at the clock. The blood vanished from Molly's face the second she saw her son's hand in the "Mortal Peril" position, and Bill put his arm around her to stop her from collapsing. Arthur had to steady himself by putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie exchanged glances with his brother. This was bad, very, very, bad.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Come on, Harry!" chirped Ron as the two ran across the train station. The pair had spent hours trying to find the place and the temperature had dropped a good fifteen degrees leaving both boys shivering. They had burned through all the food Ron had brought and the sun was beginning to set.

Harry caught up with his new friend easily.

The two came to a halt near a train guard.

"Hey, what platform is the next train to London at?" Ron asked the man.

The guy looked at them suspiciously.

"Why are you asking, where are your parents?" he demanded. The old man had dealt with more than his fair share of runaways before and his cold eyes scanned the pair suspiciously.

Ron floundered for a second. When the two had stopped into gas stations to ask instructions to this place they had claimed their parents were waiting in the car, but that excuse wouldn't exactly fly this time.

"We were going to see my Auntie off because she's going on a trip," Harry piped up innocently. "I needed to use the loo though and my cousin took me," said Harry, gesturing at Ron, "and now we can't remember how to get back to her and my Uncle."

The man's harsh stare eased up and his tone got a little friendlier.

"Oh, well, they'll be over on platform five, it'll leave in about half an hour."

"Thanks!" said Harry, and the two boys darted off.

"Stop by the ticket booth if you two get lost again!" the man called.

"Okay!" Ron yelled over his shoulder.

The two boys found the train just as it was starting to call for passengers. Ron and Harry both wished frantically that they could be invisible, because they could get on the train so much easier if no one could see them. Unconsciously, they both reached out with their magic until it connected with the other's and the pair soon deflected attention with out even realizing it. They thought it was their stealth that allowed them to slip into one of the luggage cars and hide behind a couple crates, but really their magic just made Muggle eyes pass right over them.

The two boys were both sitting still, waiting nervously until the time to leave the station came. Neither dared to say a word. They went so far as to clap their hands over their mouths because their own breathing sounded extremely noisy to them.

The two boys heard footsteps come into the compartment and they tried to make themselves as small as possible in their hiding place. They heard some rustling of clothes and shuffling of crates then silence. The train started moving not long after. Harry and Ron both breathed sighs of relief at their success in sneaking onto the train, but instantly tensed up again when they heard laughter.

"Told ya we'd make it," said a harsh, rough voice.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other in confusion as another voice replied.

"Yea, well, we still cut it pretty close this time. We need to make a dash for it as soon as possible when the train stops, who knows how long it'll take for them to find those guards, are you sure they didn't see your face when you knocked em' out?" asked a man with a sharp, quick manner of speaking.

Harry and Ron looked at each other with wide eyes. Ron, wanting to see just how many people were out there, shuffled to the left so he could peek through the gap between the crate he and Harry were hiding behind and the crate next to them.

There were two men there. They were wearing the uniforms of people working in the train station, but the clothes didn't look like they fit them right and they looked much too scruffy to really pass as train workers. The one with the rough voice wasn't tall, but he packed an intimidating amount of muscle. His hair was shoulder length and brown, and a tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve. His companion had a thinner build, but was very tall. He has greasy blonde hair, and a scar ran down his face.

Harry scurried over to where Ron was to take a quick look at the men as well.

His first thought was that these two men had the sort of scruffy appearance that his aunt and uncle always complained about.

"No worries, I got em' from behind, neither of 'em saw a thing," said the muscle man with the harsh, scary voice. "Didn't even stir when I stole their uniforms."

"You put em' away somewhere safe though right? They ain't gonna die of cold or nothin'?" asked the tall guy

"Yea, they're fine," said the man dismissively. "Would've been a lot less hassle if you just let me take em' out," the guy grumbled.

"You idiot, that's what got us into this mess!" the blond man said angrily.

"How was I supposed to know she was a cop's kid? All I wanted was her purse, if she hadn't of fought me I wouldn't of had ta kill 'er."

"I get that, but we can't escape as easy if we leave a trail of dead bodies behind. I _still_ can't go back to Scotland without worrying about getting' nabbed for killin' my stupid wife. Police make less of a fuss if people are left alive. I told you this a dozen times!"

Both Harry and Ron stopped breathing. The pair exchanged horrified glances. These men were murderers, and worse, they talked about killing like it was no big deal, needless to say they were terrified.

Harry pulled himself away from the crack between the crates and tucked himself away more securely in his hiding place, pulling Ron along with him.

The two boys sat there, shivering, too terrified to move.

Harry felt the food that he and Ron had polished off about an hour ago churning in his stomach. He wasn't used to eating the rich cakes that Dudley got to have. He'd had been fine when he and Ron were looking for the train station, but now, in a bumpy train compartment with no windows and the added pressure of being in the presence of two murderers, his stomach was rolling around violently and Harry felt sickness bubbling up within him. He tried taking deep breaths, leaning heavily on the cool wall behind him

Ron was looking around the compartment, trying to find a way out. He saw a door that seemed to lead to another compartment. They could navigate towards there by hiding behind cargo, but they would still have a ten foot dash out in the open if they were going to make it to the door. Ron was so focused on planning an escape that he didn't spare the smaller boy so much as a glace until he felt a tug on the sleeve of his robes.

Ron frowned and inched closer to Harry so the kid could whisper in his ear.

"I'm gonna throw up," the kid whimpered, sounding scared out of his mind.

Ron felt fear welling up within himself as well. Throwing up was smelly, noisy, and worst of all, unpreventable. There was no way the two men wouldn't notice it if Harry got sick there in the compartment and there was also no was for Harry to really delay it.

Ron took a deep breath, refusing to panic, he was the big brother here, he had to take control.

"Alright, let's try and get out of here," Ron muttered, taking his queasy friend by the arm and leading him away. Harry stumbled, and knocked something over the boys froze, but after a few seconds they figured it was safe to continue. They managed to creep forward a few steps when they were suddenly hoisted into the air by their shirts.

"What've we got here," growled the muscle man," he turned to his blonde haired companion.

"These little punks have been eves' droppin,'" he said as Harry and Ron struggled fruitlessly trying to get away. The blonde watched the struggling pair emotionlessly.

"Well," he said after a minute. "You know what they say about curiosity and cats," he said, giving the man a nod.

Both Harry and Ron knew what that nod meant. Harry felt a spike of fear and he found himself hurling all over the psychopath that was holding him.

The man roared in disgust and threw Harry so hard that he sailed through the air and hit the ground, bounced, and slid a few feet before he stopped, unable to move from the pain and the lack of air.

Ron yelled in anger and reached up a skinny finger to poke the man in the eye. The man yelled in fury and Ron kicked him hard in the stomach. The man dropped him and Ron sprinted over to Harry, but was stopped by the blonde man pointing a gun right into his face.

Harry looked up from where he was lying and froze when he saw the gun in Ron's face. Ron however had never seen a gun in his life and didn't understand why the man was pointing it in his face. He kicked the man angrily in the shin and the guy jumped, his arm twitching to the side. The gun went off with a loud _bang_, and Harry screamed, as the bullet hit the floor. Ron was startled by the noise, but undeterred as the muscular man grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him into the air.

"You think you can scare me with some silly noise maker?" Ron bellowed, lashing out and trying to kick the blond man in front of him and the man that was holding his arms.

"The kid's a freak," said the muscle man in disbelief, "doesn't even care when you stick a gun in his face."

"You're the freak," yelled Ron, trying to keep their attention on him while he locked eyes with Harry, silently begging him to run. Harry didn't move though. Ron got a lucky shot in on muscle man again and the guy threw him against a crate.

Ron leapt right back up though, the fall was harsh, but no harsher than falling off a broom.

"Kid's freaking crazy, drop im' already Lance," said the blonde man in disgust.

Ron still had not figured out the purpose of a gun and simply glared defiantly as the man held it out towards him. His magic didn't put up a defense. It couldn't protect him when he didn't even know he was in danger.

Harry knew though. His eyes widened in fear and he reached his hand outward desperately. Chaos reigned.

The gun was knocked from the man's hand and he stared in shock. Not knowing what was going on the muscle man whipped out his own gun, but Ron was already running to Harry. Bullets flew behind him, but that didn't last as Harry made the gun fly out of the muscle man's hand as well. Muscles and Blondie growled and charged after the boys, who were almost at the door. They boys threw it open and saw…a balcony. In their panic they'd forgotten that they'd chosen to hide in the rear car. They were cornered; there was nowhere to run. The men were advancing, pulling out knives.

While Ron saw guns as a simple noise maker he understood the threat of knives. Instinctively he grabbed Harry and turned.

_Diagon Alley, Diagon Alley, Diagon Alley._

Ron focused entirely on the first destination he could think of, not noticing the cracks coming from the compartment as wizards apparated straight to the source of Harry's first spell.

Ron spun the boy with him, pulling him into darkness. His hold on Harry was tight and Ron focused with all his might, praying that he wouldn't splinch Harry. He was fine if he got splinched but not Harry.,, They both felt a crushing pressure, they couldn't move or breath…

Buildings suddenly popped into view and the pair tumbled into a street. They took deep breaths, looking around. Harry was pale, disoriented and beyond confused, but Ron was grinning in relief.

_We made it, _was all he could think.

Back on the train Kingsley Shacklebot was not pleased. The ministry had just been informed that Harry Potter was missing and when they found a source of underage magic near the boy's home they had apprated straight there. They saw the bullet marks in the floor and saw that a door at the end of the compartment was open.

They heard the unmistakable _crack!_ of apparition coming from the balcony but they couldn't see the source because two men were blocking their view.

When Kingsley did his report later he concluded that a pair of muggles whom he had identified with the muggle police as serial killers, had been attacking whatever underage wizard (probably Harry Potter) that had been on that train. They had arrived just as the wizard disapperated, which was worrisome as it implied that an older wizard had kidnapped Potter.

The muggles could not be brought in for questioning because when they had lunged at the boys and the boys disappeared…well, their momentum pitched them straight off the back of the train. Kingsley had managed to save them with a spell, but barely. They had to be rushed to St. Mungo's so their injuries could be healed.

This would have been good news normally; they would have woken the men up and questioned them about what happened. Unfortunately some idiotic newbie ministry obliviator had jumped the gun and modified their memories before they had a chance to do anything. Needless to say the guy was on probation, but he might as well have been fired because now he was on the 'I will make you miserable' list of everyone who was searching for Harry, plus some.

Kingsley sighed.

_How can a nine year old be this much trouble?_


	6. Knockturn Alley

**Thanks to The Queen's Fabler for asking me to update (sorry it took so long.) Thanks also to The Elusive Shadow, for giving me inspiration for plot twists to come. Brian Justin Gus Kinney also gave me some really good inspiration. If there's anyone I've pm'ed with and didn't thank please let me know. As for the rest of you thanks for reading this despite my obnoxious hiatus. The chapter's short but if I didn't leave off where I did it'd have taken me much longer to write. Cheers you guys, I'll try and update more regularly things just get a bit crazy between work and school.**

Harry whipped around staring at the unfamiliar surroundings with wide eyes and a pounding heart. His eyes fixed on an empty side street a few feet away.

"Blimey, that was wicked!" said Ron grinning, "wasn't it, mate?"

He heard a sound behind him and turned around to find his friend losing his lunch in a dead end alley between two buildings.

He grimaced and walked over to where Harry was.

"Er…are you ill?" asked Ron looking worried.

Harry wiped his mouth whirled around and grabbed Ron by the front of his robes. He was shaking.

"Are you mad?! What were you thinking yelling at a guy who had a gun in your face?! He could have _shot_ you!" yelled Harry, and Ron blinked in surprise. The kid sounded angrier than he had earlier, when he was yelling at Ron for taking Dudley's food.

"You mean that blast-y thing? What's the big deal? What's shot mean?" asked Ron.

"You're joking right?" asked Harry disbelievingly.

"Hey, I live in the wizarding world. I don't really know a whole lot about muggle inventions," said Ron defensively.

Harry took a deep breath and let go of Ron's robes, he was still shaking though. He thought for a moment trying to think of the best way to describe what a gun was.

"A gun shoots out bullets," Harry said finally. "Bullets are pieces of metal that go in guns. The guns make the bullets go really fast, so fast that they go _through_ things. If he'd shot the gun when it was pointed at your face it would have blown a hole all the way through your head and you'd be dead," he said quietly.

Ron's eyes widened and he suddenly understood why Harry was so pale. He blanched at the idea that he had been literally seconds away from being killed.

"I'm sorry," said Ron sincerely, looking at the trembling kid who was looking smaller than ever in his frightened state.

"Just—be careful," said Harry, looking disturbed.

Ron put an arm around the boy and gave him a gentle half-hug, the way he did with his sister when she was upset.

Harry went stiff as if he was expecting Ron to punch him. Ron sensed the tension and released Harry quickly.

Harry wrapped his arms around himself protectively, eyeing Ron uncertainly. He couldn't remember the last time someone hugged him, so naturally he hadn't responded well to Ron's affection.

In fact he was confused in general when it came to Ron. Harry took a moment to ponder just why he'd been so quick to trust this kid. He really shouldn't. After all, shouldn't he know by now not to trust people? Nothing good ever came from it.

"Let's find a place to sleep for the night," muttered Ron, motioning for Harry to follow but taking care not to touch him. He didn't know what was wrong with Harry, but he knew instinctively that the kid needed space.

Harry nodded and followed Ron curiously around the alley.

Despite the fact that it was only a little before six in the evening, the street was largely deserted, as Diagon Alley tended to be a bit seasonal. The shops tended to close up around sunset, staying open late in the summer when wizarding children weren't in school and closing up early in the winter months when the cold set in, so there wasn't a whole lot going on at that point.

_No one around to catch us_, Ron thought with satisfaction.

"This is incredible," Harry whispered as his eyes drifted around the empty alley, full of shops that had just enough light in the window to show off their goods. His eyes fell on a shop called "Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"Ron, what's Quidditch?" asked Harry curiously.

Ron turned to Harry…and the rest is history. It was also probably their saving grace too, as none of the few people that were wandering the alley paid the two a second glance. To the adults in the vicinity they were just another pair of rambunctious kids getting hyped up over broomsticks and quaffles. Ron talked a mile a second while Harry listened with a mixture of fascination and confusion. The boy was still trying to understand what the red head was saying when Ron instantly switched topics, trying to get Harry to support the Chudley Cannons.

Harry watched the animated look on Ron's face. Ron seemed happy to be talking to him, and Harry found himself wondering if this might be what it's like to have a friend.

The pair's merry hike ended abruptly though when Harry pointed to a window.

"Ron, is that you?" whispered Harry.

Ron looked up and saw a poster with his face on it.

_Missing Child: Ronald Weasley age nine_

Ron glanced at it in horror as he read through the information on it. His mouth fell open as he saw information there that he himself hadn't even known, like his exact height and weight. He also saw the whole story of his disappearance written at the bottom, printed out for the whole wizarding world to see.

"Come on, let's keep moving," Ron whispered, pulling up the hood of his robe as he tugged Harry down the street. Just then an elderly witch stepped out of a shop wearing a heavy fur robe and carrying a large bag.

Ron squinted through the dark then squeaked and pulled Harry into a side alley behind some old barrels.

"What's up?" asked Harry.

"That's my Great-Auntie Muriel," he hissed. "She's meaner than she is wrinkled and her mouth's about as big as that ugly purse she's carrying. We can't let her catch us."

The two settled back into the alley and Harry turned to Ron.

"I don't understand," said Harry. "Why did you run away? Your family is obviously looking for you," he said.

"It's…it's complicated," said Ron, feeling not only surprised that his family had put fliers around (he had left a note after all) but a little embarrassed for his reasoning. After all, not receiving as much attention as his siblings was nothing to being abused and starved as Harry had been.

Not that he was regretting his decision to leave home. He'd found a new friend on his very first night, a friend who needed his help. Ron liked feeling useful for a change. He also reasoned that if he went back now, the ministry might send Harry back to the Dursleys, and there was no way he was letting that happen, even if he had to go into hiding until he and Harry were both of age.

"Look, let's just get to Knockturn Alley," said Ron and Harry followed without any further questions.

Harry and Ron noticed the immediate change in atmosphere when they entered Knockturn Alley. Things were a lot darker, the buildings were a little run down, and more of the shops here were open, given the fact that most people didn't like to shop in Knockturn during the day where they might be seen.

The two stepped down the alley quietly; Ron looking around warily, unconsciously sensing that dark magic was about. He saw a woman with a tray of something bloody looking and foul, probably used in potions. He carefully moved past her, making sure that there was a good amount of distance between her and Harry.

"This place seems dodgy," whispered Harry uneasily, also sensing the ominous magic present in some of the nearby shops, though completely unconsciously.

"Because it is," grunted Ron.

Harry frowned, but said nothing. He had the horrible thought that if he made Ron angry, the boy would leave him in this terribly frightening alleyway. After all, that's what Dudley would have done.

"Let's go in here, whispered Ron, looking at a small shop that appeared to sell books.

As soon as they opened the door they saw a stern looking woman behind a desk. She was tall and had long black hair that was slightly frizzy, and a beautiful face that was partially covered with glasses. The shop as a whole was dusty and books were everywhere. Ron paused to take it all in.

"What are you two doing here so late? Where are your parents?" asked the woman.

"We're looking for a job," said Ron, straightforward as usual.

"What do I look like, a babysitter? You're too young, I've no use for a couple underage little street rats," she sneered.

Harry moved to leave but Ron stood his ground looking around the shop at the dust and disorganization of the books.

"Seems to me like you could use someone to help keep this place a little neater," said Ron, haughtily swiping over a half-inch layer of dust off a book to emphasize his point.

"Why you little snot! Who do you think you are? You better run home to mummy before I hex your little behind!" she said threateningly, pulling out her wand.

Ron grabbed Harry's sleeve and pulled him out the door.

They ran outside and straight across the street to form some distance between themselves and the angry woman.

"Well, that went well," said Ron sarcastically. "Okay, let's try again, someone else is sure to hire us," he said, but just then a pair of teenagers stepped out of the very shop Harry and Ron had been chased from.

There was a boy and a girl, both sloppily dressed and clothed all in black. Ron mused that they looked to be around Bill's age, though their presence in Diagon Alley indicated that they were probably freshly graduated.

"So you boys are looking for a job, eh?" asked the boy and the smell of fire whisky radiated from his clothes and breath.

Ron and Harry turned around hopefully and saw the couple leering down at him.

"Yes," said Ron.

The girl got a look on her face that made Harry feel uneasy.

"Well," said the girl, leaning down and running her hands through Harry's hair. These soft locks of yours would go very nicely in this potion I'm working on," she sneered and her breath too was reeking of alcohol.

Harry flinched and Ron pulled him out of her reach.

"Now, don't be rude," she purred, "it's not like I asked for blood…although, it could prove useful for another potion I've just been _dying_ to try," her fingers suddenly found Harry's wrist and held it tight.

"Let go!" Harry screamed, struggling.

The couple laughed. Ron ran up and kicked the girl in the leg as hard as he could before jumping back in anticipation of retaliation.

The girl gasped in pain and Harry broke free, running over to Ron. The older boy suddenly raised his wand with a terrifying expression on his face.

"Expelliarmus!" shrieked an outraged voice.

Harry and Ron turned and saw the woman from the shop. Her eyes showed nothing but anger as her wand slashed through the air. The man and woman shrieked as stinging jinxes hit them. The woman sent jinx after jinx after them and they turned and ran as welts appeared on their skin, barely taking the time to go and get their wands back.

"And don't you ever come round my shop again you hooligans!" She shrieked.

She caught her breath as the two disappeared from sight and rounded on the boys.

"And you two! What are you even doing out here this late?"

"We told, you," said Ron, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder (the boy was in shock after the sudden and violent display of magic) "we're looking for jobs."

The woman sighed in exasperation.

"You're too young, you can't even do magic yet. And it's not safe for you to be poking around this alley asking for them either. You think those two are the only ones of their kind? There are all sorts of lunatics out there who try and get the blood of underage wizards to use in potions; didn't you hear about the Grimrick killings last year? Wizard killed two underage witches for some vile ritual! I don't know why you think you need jobs and I don't care. You two need to knock off this nonsense and go home!" she snapped.

"We have no homes to go to," said Ron firmly, a little intimidated by this woman, but he knew his Mum was scarier when she was mad, hands down, so he stood his ground.

She stared at them.

"What do you mean, no homes?" she demanded.

"I'm an orphan," said Harry honestly, skirting around the fact that he'd run away from his aunt and uncle.

The woman was about to interrogate them further when Ron's stomach rumbled.

The woman studied the pair and noticed Harry shivering a little; the night was getting cold.

"Oh for goodness sake, follow me," she hissed, turning around and stomping inside her business.

Harry and Ron scuttled after her, Ron eagerly and Harry warily. His head was still reeling from the duel he'd just witnessed and he didn't like the idea of counting on a stranger's hospitality, especially in a place like this.

_Yet again she did save us from being boiled up in cauldrons_, thought Harry and he shuddered as his mind jumped to Hansel and Gretel. He'd read it in the school library and remembered how terrifying the witch who tried to eat the two small children was. It seemed that the story wasn't so far off from the truth in some cases.

_Maybe that's why the Dursleys hate me; maybe they think I'll turn out like that._

The woman waved her wand and Harry gawked as the shutters on the windows closed and books flew back onto their shelves. Ron actually had to tug Harry's sleeve to get him to look away from the incredible sight to follow the woman up a narrow staircase and to a door, which she unlocked with her wand. When the door opened the boys saw a tiny flat with minimal furnishings.

"Sit down," she snapped, pointing to a table.

The boys sat and watched her bang around the kitchen, grumbling about idiotic brats amongst other words that both boys knew never to use.

Harry watched the graceful movements of her wand as she made a strange looking juice pour itself into glasses and a small mound of potatoes begin unpeeling themselves. Water boiled instantly at her command and knives obligingly chopped thick cuts of raw beef into small pieces.

"What are your names?" the woman snapped, breaking Harry out of his reverie as she continued to cook.

"I'm Hemlock," Ron lied, blurting out the name of the current Chudley Cannon's keeper "and this is…"

"James," Harry said quickly before the woman could pick up on Ron's hesitation.

"Last names?" she demanded.

"Winging," Harry spat out his street name reflexively.

She looked to Ron.

"Same," he replied.

The woman raised an eyebrow, not even looking at she pointed her wand around the kitchen and caused appliances to fly around.

"We're brothers," Ron lied.

The woman actually laughed at them for the obvious lie.

"It's true, we are brothers! The reason we don't look a like is that we have different moms," said Ron indignantly, having seen Fred and George spin enough yarns to sound sincere.

The woman looked at them and shook her head, deciding to humor them since she wasn't really sure if she should believe them.

"Renette Trelawney," she said rolling her eyes.

"Isn't there a teacher named Trelawney at Hogwarts?" asked Ron curiously, remembering one of his older brothers mentioning her.

"And how would a couple of street rats know about who teaches Hogwarts?" asked the woman shrewdly.

Ron blushed. "Just heard some students talking. I hear she's pretty good," he said, though he'd heard no such thing from anyone.

"Now I _know_ you're lying," the woman snorted. "Sybill doesn't have an ounce of clairvoyance. She's been putting on the "seer" act since she found out on of our great grandmas was one. She's been trying to drag the Trelawney name into prominence but really, she's just an embarrassment," the woman said harshly.

The boys didn't respond to this and the woman went back to her cooking, now in a bad mood. The boys sat in silence, becoming more and more nervous before she finally broke the tension by serving up a couple bowls of stew and serving it to the boys.

Harry hesitated but the second Ron took a bite he ate ravenously, an arm up on the table in an unconscious effort to block any hands that might snatch his bowl away, which happened a lot at the Dursleys.

Renette ate with them in silence and once she'd given both boys second helpings of stew and pumpkin juice she looked at them again with a stern eye.

"I doubt you two are who you say you are but that doesn't really matter in these parts. In fact, nothing really matters around here. Not dignity, honor, or any kind of decency, which is why I'm keeping you here tonight. You're not safe elsewhere."

She glared at them.

"I want you gone tomorrow though. If you keep hanging about I'll call in the ministry, and I hate the ministry. They scare away my customers and if you make me call them I'll hex you both, understand?"

"Yes ma'am," the boy's said in unison.

"Good," she said.

"Loo's over there; wash up while I get out the camp beds," she said.

As Renette set up the beds she tried to remember where she'd put her chess set or her gob stones, thinking that the kids would probably have too much energy to go to sleep right away.

To her surprise though, when the two boys came back they made a beeline for the beds. With a shrug Renette went to clear up the mess from dinner. It can't have taken her more than ten minutes but by the time she was done she found both boys were in a deep sleep. She looked at them with concerned eyes, wondering just _what_ they had been through that would drive them to run around Knockturn alley and then recover from an attack from dark wizards with hardly any fuss at all.

Shaking her head, Renette went to bed, deciding to take on the problems later.

That's how Harry and Ron found themselves a bed on their very first night fending for themselves.

Before he fell asleep Ron mused that he'd done pretty well without his parents so far, all things considered.


	7. Incognito

The next morning Harry and Ron woke up to find Renette standing over them, waving a newspaper.

"Get _up_ you little demons!" she hissed. "Get up!"

In an instant Harry was on his feet and halfway across the room, moving away from their host with a frightened look on his face. Ron, who had been slowly waking up, bolted to his feet the second he saw his friend dart by him and stood protectively between the angry woman and Harry.

"What?" Ron snapped.

The woman held out the paper.

_HARRY POTTER GONE MISSING! _The headline read and there was a picture of Harry's face on the front.

Harry went pale and Ron smiled out of pure nervousness.

"Alright, _James, Hemlock_," she snarled. "You two have five minutes to explain yourselves before I dump your scrawny little behinds out onto the street!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mr. Weasley wrenched himself through the fireplace, not even stopping to shake the ash of him as he stormed into the burrow. Charlie was the first to intercept him.

"What is it, Dad?" asked Charlie.

Arthur just shoved a newspaper at his second oldest and Charlie seized it. He looked at the cover and his eyes widened, then narrowed as he turned a page in the paper. Then another, then another. He had flipped all the way to the back before he threw it aside.

"No!" he yelled angrily. "Merlin's bloody boot, how could they do this to him?!"

Bill and Mrs. Weasley had heard the shouts and the pair came running.

"What?!" asked Mrs. Weasley, running into the kitchen.

She saw the newspaper along with the distraught looks of her son and husband's faces and dove for it. She only gave the front page a brief glance before throwing it aside and leafing through the rest of the paper. Bill picked up the discarded page and his brow furrowed for a second before he looked at Charlie to share a look of frustration and disbelief.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband in confusion.

"There's nothing about Ron in here," she said.

"Exactly, Molly, Harry Potter's gone missing," said Arthur.

"Is that what all the fuss was about when you came in?" asked Molly. "You gave me a heart attack! Why did you even come here if all you have is news on Harry bloody Potter?" asked Molly, still not making the connection.

"Molly," said Arthur impatiently, "_Harry Potter_ is _missing_."

"Well I'm sorry for _Harry Potter_," said Mrs. Weasley sarcastically, "what does that have to do with my son?"

"Mum, _think_," growled Bill. "_Harry Potter_ has gone missing. With his disappearance causing a commotion the ministry will pull: Every. Available. Auror. to find him. And the public will be searching too."

Molly went pale.

"You mean…?"

Arthur nodded. "Ron's case has just been put on hold."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So let me get this straight," said Renette raising an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me that you're an orphan who just happened to run into _Harry _bleedin' _Potter_, savior of the wizarding world, who, by the way, has been living with abusive muggles for the last for eight years?"

"What do you mean "savior of the wizarding world?" asked Harry in bewilderment.

Ron gave Renette a look as if to say _see?_

Renette still looked doubtful.

"They really have been horrible to him! His cousin always hits him, look, I saw the marks last night when we were getting ready for bed," said Ron, grabbing the hem of Harry's shirt and yanking it up before the boy could realize what he was doing.

"Hey!" yelled Harry at the same time Renette shrieked "Merlin!"

The young boy had a large, nasty bruise on his ribs as well as another large one on his stomach. They were both fading, magic expediting the healing process, but they were still ugly.

Renette whipped out her wand and muttered healing charms so quickly that her spells could barely be distinguished from each other.

Harry had tried to cover up the marks, but Renette knocked his arms out of the way and continued mumbling until the bruises faded. She sat back when her work was done and looked at Ron in shock.

"But—but—he's the boy who lived," she said dazedly.

"The boy who lived through what?" asked Harry, starting to get impatient.

Renette sighed. "I'll tell you if you remind me again how you _got_ here."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The cell was cold, though from temperature or sadness Sirius no longer could tell. He was sitting there quietly when he was approached by an angry looking Auror.

Sirius had enough fight left in him to glare back at the man as his cell was opened.

"Come with me, you useless vermin," hissed the man.

Sirius was led past demeanors, savoring the fact that (for the benefit of the guard) there was a patronus protecting him from them for once. He was led into a room made for interrogation.

There was no preamble, instead a second Auror entered the room and threw _The Daily Prophet_ down in front of him.

"Tell me, Black," he growled. "Which one of your scumbag associates has Potter?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mrs. Weasley was storming around the kitchen, shouting as she paced over the newspaper that she'd torn in two.

"Unacceptable! He's a child! He's my child! They can't just ignore him!"

"Mum?" asked Ginny as she and Luna peeked into the kitchen. The two girls were sleepy eyed and in their pajamas.

"Go play girls!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny started, her eyes filling with tears. She wasn't used to her mother taking that tone with her. Sure, she talked like that to the boys, but never _her_.

She looked to her father, expecting some form of consolation, but he was speaking to both of her brothers and none of them were paying any attention to her. Ginny's lip trembled.

"Never mind, Ginny," said Luna. "We can play in the living room." The girl seemed unaffected by the shouting, oblivious even. She had been acting exceptionally calm since the incident with her mother, more so than usual. Ginny wondered how her friend could be so tranquil when her mother might be dying.

The pair left and went to play far enough away not to be noticed, but close enough to eavesdrop, should anything happen.

Their choice turned out to be a good one as the fire lit up a half an hour later. They heard someone step through though every second step was a clunk.

"Mad-eye Moody," said Luna vaguely.

Ginny listened.

"Mad-eye! Have you heard—" started Molly.

"About the Potter boy? Of course I have, woman, the whole bloody ministry knows!" the man growled. "The Auror's even called me from retirement for it. Don't know why they bothered though, they won't listen to a blasted thing I say," he growled. "They say my theories aren't plausible, that "old Mad-eye is paranoid," ha! I'd like to see them come up with something better."

"What theories do you have Moody?" asked Arthur quickly. "Anything about Ron?"

"Yes, I do, though it isn't pretty."

"Bill, Charlie, head upstairs," said Molly anxiously.

"Don't send them off Molly! How do you expect them to be vigilant if they don't know what they're up against? They're plenty old enough to hear this. _That_ one's of age, if I recall correctly," he growled and Ginny assumed that he was referring to Bill.

"And just what are we up against, Sir?" asked Charlie before his mother could chase him from the room.

"Death Eaters," said Mad-eye solemnly.

Molly gasped.

"How do you know?" asked Arthur solemnly.

"The disappearances of the boys. They're linked, I'm sure of it. Ron wanders off, after acting strangely for a week, then he runs away and somehow manages to disapparate right in front of Arthur's eyes? For a child to disapparate like is _rare_ I suspect that your boy was placed under the imperious curse," said Moody.

"No," whispered Mrs. Weasley.

"What's the imperious curse?" whispered Ginny to Luna from where they were eavesdropping.

The blonde shrugged.

"That can't be right," said Arthur, his voice shaking. "He's disapparated before. He fell of the roof when he was younger and apparated right next to me. He didn't even know where I was when he did it. Ron just thought of me, and then there he was, in my shed."

Mad-eye took this in. Ginny heard him pacing back and forth before he froze.

"Have you told anyone else this story?" asked Moody.

"Well, I—I don't know, I suppose," said Arthur, surprised at the question.

"Think _carefully _Arthur," said the man.

"Well…I did tell some of the people at the ministry, as well as some friends. I mean, it's like you said, it's rare for a child to apparate, not to mention apparating to a point as unsteady as a person. Most wizards need a fixed point, like a place, to fixate on."

"Which people did you tell?" Moody demanded.

"I don't know, Mad-eye, it was two years ago, where are you going with this?"

"Think, Arthur!" said the older wizard his wooden leg clunking as he paced restlessly. "You kid just so happens to have the rare ability to apparate to a person's side, he starts acting funny for a week, then he disappears. A kid with an ability like his, some Death Eater could have found out, imperioused him, and used him as a niffler to sniff out Harry Potter," the man growled.

"They would be able to rely on the two disappearences going unlinked because one is a runaway while the other is a suspected kidnapping, and to top it all off, Harry Potter's fame makes him top priority. No article about your son will make it into the profit until that child is found and the fact that he was kidnapped before news of Ron could hit the papers is more evidence that someone is pulling strings to try and keep things quiet," Mad-eye continued before lowering his voice. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but the ministry suspects things as well. They're pulling former Death Eater's from their cells in Azkaban for interrogation. They're trying to find out if any of them had old contacts that might have taken the boy."

Ginny reached for Luna's hand and squeezed it tight. She had no idea where her brother was now, but she knew he was in trouble, and not the funny kind where he had to sit in the corner while she played, but the bad kind. The really bad kind.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You look weird as a blonde," said Harry to Ron. "So do you," he shot back.

"He really does," Renette agreed, eyeing Harry. "Alright, we'll go with brown for you."

Harry flinched as she tapped her wand against his head and turned his hair a chocolate brown color.

Harry pushed his now invisible glasses up his nose with a frown. Despite Renette assuring him that they would become visible when they fell off he still didn't like the idea of not being able to see something that was on his face. In any case, he'd been wearing his glasses his whole life and his vision was too poor to so much as see his own reflection without them. They felt as much a part of his face as his mouth and nose and to have them made invisible made him look (in Harry's opinion) _weird_.

"Well, these disguises should hold up for a while, just don't forget to call each other by your fake names and stop playing the brother bit, say you're cousins, it's _much _more believable," she said, passing each of the boys a small bag with a supply of food that would last them the next couple days, as well as a little money.

"Thanks," said Ron, grinning at the woman.

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Thanks nothing, the only reason I haven't dropped you off at the ministry is that I don't want those morons thinking I played a part in kidnapping you. I'm saving my own neck as much as yours.

This business is my livelihood, and in Knockturn Alley getting tangled with the authorities is a surefire way to scare away customers. People around here will cut all association with you because they don't want to be near any Aurors or Ministry thugs, and I'm not about to let that happen because I helped out a couple of brats," she said.

Ron suppressed another smile. He saw the way her eyes flicked to Harry and knew that she was really helping them escape because she was terrified that the ministry would send him back to his family.

"Still, we appreciate it," said Harry honestly.

"You really appreciate it, then get yourselves out of this shop and don't come back, you two have caused enough trouble around here," she said. "You guys have that parchment that says where you need to go?"

"Yes ma'am," chorused the boys.

"Good. You tell him_ I_ sent you and be sure not to let him mistreat you. If he makes you do anything too dangerous or underpays you, come see me."

"I thought you told us never to come back?" Ron questioned with a smirk.

"Oh, get on with you, rascals," said Renette grabbing the children and steering them from her shop.

"Bye Ms. Trelawney! Thanks for everything!" said Harry before the two were turned out into Knockturn Alley. It was still early morning and the sun had barely risen. It would still be several hours before the shop that Renette had referred them to opened. Ron dragged Harry to Diagon Alley to visit quality Quidditch supplies. He was determined to make the most of their time.

**Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to update, including Fallen-Petals 15 who suggested I update for Christmas. I know this is kind of a filler, but it has all the connecting info you need to know before I jump into Harry and Ron's adventures. You see, I needed the catalyst that caused Sirius to escape, a lead that Harry and Ron can follow to get a job in Knockturn Alley, and another few things that will become relevant later. Thanks to all of you for reading and I'll try and update soon.**


	8. Fletch

The boys had barely entered the alley when they heard the whispers. People were looking at newspapers all with Harry's face on the front.

Ron looked around nervously.

"Maybe we should…"

He was cut himself off though as he saw Harry walking away towards a pile of crates.

"Hey! Where are you going?" asked Ron.

Harry ignored him carefully chose a crate to sit on. He had enough experience in hiding to pick a place where they were out of the way enough to not attract any attention but out in the open enough that they didn't look suspicious.

Once he was settled he crossed his arms defiantly.

"What's up?" asked Ron, walking over and sitting down next to him.

"Renette said she'd explain why everyone was making such a fuss about me going missing, but she forgot because she was trying to get us out of her shop, and I _still_ don't know what's going on!" he said angrily. "Why is everyone calling me the boy-who-lived?"

Ron frowned, wondering where to begin.

"I—I guess it all started with you know who," he said after a tiny pause.

"You-Know-Who," said Ron.

"No, I _don't _know who, that's why I'm asking," said Harry, annoyed.

"No, we call him You-Know-Who because you're not supposed to say his name," said Ron.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Well…Rumor has it that when you say his name, death eaters will come and get you."

"Death Eaters?"

"You-Know-Who's followers, they did bad things during the wizarding war, when we were fighting You-Know-Who" said Ron.

Harry digested this for a moment.

"Wizarding war?" asked Harry.

"Yea. You-Know-Who and his followers killed a lot of people. He killed your parents.

"What?!" asked Harry, "They died in a car crash!"

"Who told you that?" asked Ron, incredulously.

"My aunt and uncle," said Harry.

Something in the back of Ron's mind told him that he should find a really nice way to put what he was about to say.

"Sorry, mate, but they lied. Your parents were murdered."

Harry's eyes widened in shock and he looked a little hurt.

_Guess I was too straightforward again. _Thought Ron, cringing, _but what else was I supposed to say?_

"What happened to them? Why does everyone say I have something to do with it?" asked Harry.

Ron gave him a grim look, and dived into the story. It took a long time for Ron to explain the wizarding war to Harry. He told him about Voldemort, about the muggles he'd killed and the wizards. Ron told Harry about the he'd never seen, uncles and other relatives who had died before he was even born because of Voldemort. He talked about all the people that were lost, how there wasn't a single page in his parents' Hogwarts scrapbooks that didn't have a photo of someone who had been killed in the war. Ron told Harry what he'd heard about the attack that brought down Voldemort. This confused Harry, but Ron assured him that it was a mystery to everyone.

"And You-Know-Who did all that?" asked Harry.

"Yea, he did," said Ron sadly.

Harry frowned. "There's one thing I don't understand though. You said that according to rumor, death eathers come when you say his name, right?"

Ron nodded solemnly.

"Well…do you know You-Know-Who's name?" asked Harry.

"Yea, one of Dad's friends said it when I was little, and Bill, my brother, told me not to repeat it when I said his name and asked him who it was."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Well, if your dad's friend said it and you said it, and nothing happened, then the rumors must not be true," he said.

Ron blinked.

_What? _

"And anyway, you told me that he was defeated…by me, apparently, but the point is he can't be all that dangerous if he's defeated right? It seems mental to be scared of a silly name if nothing bad happens when you say it."

"I'm not scared!" said Ron pouting.

_I'm not scared! One day I'll be a Gryffindor like all my brothers, and Gryffindors are never scared._

"Well, then," said Harry smugly, "say his name."

Ron looked around.

_Well…Like Harry said, You-Know-Who is gone, so nothing bad will happen, right? Nothing bad happened when I found out his name. Besides, we're in an ally full of adults._

"Hinamewavolmort," Ron said blurted out, looking around nervously, as if waiting for an attack.

"What?" asked Harry having missed what Ron said since he spoke so quickly.

Ron looked around cautiously before repeating himself.

"His name…was Voldemort," he said hesitantly.

He looked around. No death eaters. Huh.

"Voldemort?" repeated Harry, wrinkling his nose at the funny name.

Ron flinched but still, nothing happened.

"Yea…" said Ron. He gathered his courage and said once more: "_Voldemort."_

Harry nodded, kicking his legs against the crate.

He looked like he was thinking about something.

"What's up?" asked Ron.

"These stories—I mean, did you ever…ever hear anything about my Mum and Dad? What they were like?"

Ron tilted his head to the side.

"Dad told me once, that the Potters were very—they were very rich."

"Really?" asked Harry his eyes shining, "what was his job? Was he important?"

"He fought Voldemort," said Ron slowly, "but that's all I know."

Harry looked down in disappointment.

"Uncle Vernon said he was a drunk and a wastial," he said sadly.

Ron frowned. "I don't know what a wastial is, but your aunt and uncle are liars. They told you your parents died in a car crash but that was a lie, and they told you that you were a freak which is a lie, I bet they lied about that too. Besides, I everyone that talked about your parents said they were good people," he said smiling at Harry.

Harry smiled back. "Come on, let's explore the alley," he said.

"Won't we be noticed?" asked Ron.

Harry tilted his head to the side in concentration.

"Sometimes, when I'm hiding from Dudley at school, I go where there's a bunch of other kids. I'm not very tall and if I hide behind them it takes him longer to find me," he said.

"So, you're saying we should stay near crowds?" asked Ron.

"Yup," said Harry.

"Blimey, that's a smart idea," said Ron. "I never would have thought of it."

Harry blushed.

"Come on, let's go," said Ron with a grin. "I'm sure there's lots of interesting stuff to do!"

The two boys got so enthralled with the wonders of Diagon Alley that they didn't head back to Knockturn right away. The sights each shop held were ones that Harry had never seen before and he lost himself simply in the _magic_ of it all. Ron was also enthralled by the items for sale, though didn't see why Harry was so awestruck by simple creatures such as owls and commonplace items like cauldrons. Harry, who enjoyed being able to speak without worrying about anyone smacking him for opening his mouth, had a thousand questions. Anyone else would have been overwhelmed by the sheer mass of inquiries Harry had, but Ron didn't mind. Whenever Harry was unsure of something he would look to _Ron_, not to someone older or cooler, like Bill and Charlie. It made Ron feel important, like an expert. Also, the only thing that seemed to distract the boy from his usual jumpiness was his curiosity so when Harry turned to him and asked: "Why do wizards use wands?" Ron just smiled at him and leaned against the wall of the ever busy, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"The wand helps the magic in us come out when we want it to," Ron spoke in an easy matter-of-fact tone. Most boys his age would have sounded condescending. After all, a five-year-old wizard could have told him the answer to that, but Ron knew that if he sounded like _that_ he'd sound like Percy and he didn't want to sound like _him. _

"But we used magic. We used magic to get away from those bad guys on the train," said Harry.

"We did do magic, but—well—it's because we got real lucky. Dad says there are some spells that just come naturally to us, like…I guess disapparating is natural for me since I've done it a few times... I can do it sometimes when I need to, but to do it whenever I want I need a wand. Wands and spells are so we can control magic and get it to do what we want when we want. If we don't use wands we can only do the spells that come naturally to us and even then they won't work all the time."

"Disapparating…That's when you disappear, right?" questioned Harry.

"Yep," said Ron.

"And… you don't need a want to do magic…but if you don't use the wand then the magic isn't as good?"

"Pretty much," said Ron. "A wandless wizard would do okay against a muggle, but against a wizard with a wand? They'd be flattened," he told Harry.

Harry mulled this over as they moved on to the next shop. Ron was tempted to spent the money Renette gave them in every store they went to, but Harry would always remind him that they might need it. Their resolve did weaken after a few hours when they were in the candy shop, and in the end they decided that buying a bag of Berty Botts Every Flavor Beans to share couldn't hurt.

They went back to the crates to eat them, laughing as they ate their way through the disgusting and delicious flavors. They moved on to some of the food Trelawney had given them next, as all the walking around had made them hungry.

"When we have money, I want to try the Levitating Sherbet Balls!" said Harry excitedly. "How cool would it be to just Levitate off the ground?"

Ron was slightly thrown by Harry's excitement. He levitated all the time, on brooms, with candy, and of course with magical accidents the twins caused.

"You've never levitated?" asked Ron.

"Raised by Muggles," Harry reminded him for what was probably the tenth time that day.

"Don't worry, mate, as soon as we get our hands on a broom, I'm teaching you to fly."

Harry grinned.

"Wicked."

Suddenly a shadow fell over the boys as the clunk of large boots sounded.

"What're you two doin back 'ere?" barked a voice.

The boys jumped as they saw an enormous man standing a few yards away from them. He was absolutely huge, taller and broader than anyone the boys had ever seen. He had a big, wild, beard and a huge brown overcoat.

"Our parents are in the bookshop, we got bored," squeaked Harry, spouting out the lie he and Ron had made up in case anyone asked about their parents.

"Well get back to em! Don't you know there's kids been going missin?"

"Sorry!" yelped Ron and the two boys ran away.

They went straight into a crowded bookshop and hid in the back for a full five minutes while their heart rates slowed down.

"He was huge!" breathed Harry.

"Yea, he was," said Ron.

They took a breath.

"We should go back to Knockturn," said Harry.

"Yea," said Ron as he clutched his heart. "Yea, we should."

The two boys carefully left the shop and snuck back into Knockturn Alley.

Despite the hours on the door saying that the shop was open however, the building was still dark.

Ron frowned and turned the knob of the dilapidated front door; it was locked.

Ron knocked loudly for a full minute, but there was no reply.

"Now what?" asked Harry with a frown.

"Look for another entrance?" said Ron uncertainly.

Harry nodded at this and Ron sighed and went around to the side of the building. There were no windows down low enough to look through but there was a shabby back door.

Ron tested the knob. This door was unlocked.

Ron grinned in triumph.

"Ron—I mean Hemlock—I don't know if this is a good idea," whispered Harry.

"Don't worry, James," said Ron in the type of voice Fred used when he was only _pretending_ to know what he was doing, "it'll be fine."

He opened the door and stepped into a filthy storage room. It was small and cramped with no windows, only a thin archway that connected the room to the front of the shop.

"Isn't this illegal?" Harry muttered.

Ron just shushed him and Harry reluctantly followed his reckless friend past shelves full of various objects, there were lockets, books, gems, and assorted jars full of what Ron guessed were potion ingredients.

The hairs on the back of Ron's neck stood up and he turned to look at Harry, who had his hand stretched out towards one of the lockets.

"Don't touch anything!" he hissed and Harry retracted his hand in alarm.

He looked at Ron with large, remorseful, eyes.

"Sorry, mate, but some of this stuff is probably cursed. The shops are pretty dodgy here," said Ron, eyeing the locket nervously.

Harry nodded and stepped closer to Ron.

The red-haired boy gave a nod and the two left the storage room as quickly as they could while still being quiet.

The next room hardly looked any better than the previous. There was a counter and shelves along the walls spilling with items similar to the ones hidden in the back. The place was so disorganized that it took the boys a moment to realize that there was someone else in the room.

A man was laying asleep in an armchair. There were a couple of fire whisky bottles by his feet and his appearance was so shabby that Harry's imagination was filled with a picture of his Uncle Vernon's veins popping out and his aunt's lips pursing in disapproval at the very sight.

Ron was thinking that maybe it would be best to unlock the front door and make it seem like they'd just come in that way.

_That could work. I could shout "Hello!" and wake the man up. I could say the front was unlocked._

He was just about to enact the plan when the front door knob turned. Harry and Ron scurried into the storage room as quickly as possible. Moments later the lock on the front door clicked and someone stormed into the front room.

"Mundungus! Wake up, you worthless flea!"

The man bolted up.

"Wha-?" His scruffy bearded face looked confused.

Harry and Ron positioned themselves behind the door frame so that they could see what was going on without being seen. They witnessed a white haired man with a heavy-set yet muscular build and a jaw as hard as rock walk towards the man who had been sleeping. He had a scowl and a mean glare on his face as he looked at the younger man.

"Mrs. Willows stopped by and told me that the shop was closed when she tried to pick up the item you promised her! She thinks you're trying to cheat her, you bloody nuisance," he said harshly.

"S'not time fer the shop to open yet!" The man slurred defensively.

"Not time?! Dung-head it's past noon! You should have opened the bleedin' shop over an hour ago!" the man was livid and his tone of voice made Harry flinch.

"This is the third complaint I've got about you in the past couple weeks! I ought to turn you out onto the streets!"

"But, Uncle Fletch, I was out late last night getting more merchandise for th' shop!" the man protested.

"You were out late last night doing _something, _but I doubt it was for the shop!" said the man.

"No, look!" said Mundungus getting to his feet sloppily and staggering into the storage room.

The two boys didn't react fast enough to Mundungus getting up and they froze when they were put suddenly face to face with the man.

"Wha?!" he yelled and Harry recognized the smell of alcohol on his breath and backed up fearfully.

"Who're you?!" The man demanded, wha're ya doin 'ere!" he demanded.

The boys tried to run but Mundungus grabbed Ron by the arm.

"Let him go!" Harry yelled, kicking the man.

"Ouch! You—"

"What is this?" bellowed the white haired man, coming into the storage room.

"What are you two snot nosed brats doing here," he demanded.

"Renette sent us," said Harry, grabbing the note and holding it out to the man.

He took it, looking at Harry with a glare.

He ripped open the envelope and read through the letter.

By the time he was done his face was as purple as Harry's uncle's got on a bad day.

"What's this about you owing Rennete Trewlany a debt?" he growled.

Mundungus flinched.

"Well, Uncle Fletch, ya see there was this book she 'ad. It was real rare. It had some information I wanted so I borrowed it. But, ya see I owed these goblins some money and they managed to catch up to me. I didn' have nothing' on me so I gave em' the book. Well, Renette realized it was me that 'er, borrowed it, so…"

The man took out his wand quicker than a wink and hexed Mundungus full in the face without a second's hesitation.

"Arg!" the man cried out and let go of Ron, who bolted away in fear, Harry right behind him. They were on their way out the door when a spell hit the door, locking it. The boys tried to force it open, but it was no good.

"Calm down, you scamps it's not _you_ I'm mad at it's this _idiot_ here," said the white haired man.

The boys turned and looked at him, but said nothing, hey just stood there with wide fearful eyes.

The man turned back to mundungus.

"You _stole_ a book from Renette Trelawny!"

"Not stole—"

"Yes stole! You stole it and you bleeding _gave it away_ and it was worth TWO THOUSAND GALLEONS! For the past MONTH you've owed her money and you have the gall to keep dodging her! Do you know what this letter says? It says that she has _proof_ that it was you who took the bloody book and if we don't pay back half of the debt within the next three months _and _find these two brats work and a place to sleep then she'll involve the _ministry. _If that happens, not only will they take it out the shop since I was stupid enough to let you co-own it, but they'll have their filthy noses sniffing around here killing business for the _both_ of us. No one wants to run deals with people who have the bleeding Aurors on their backs!"

Harry watched the man yell with a blank look on his face as Ron cringed.

"M' Sorry!" yelled Mundungus. "Sorry!"

"Man the shop, you moron! I'll send Lisa here to mind it and when I do you better get your scrawny hide over to the Inn, you understand? Them boils are permanent, and I won't lift them until we've worked out a way to settle that debt."

The man whirled around.

"As for you two, you'll follow me."

Harry and Ron didn't comply; they stayed pressed against the wall, eyeing the man warily.

"Hey, if you don't want work, fine by me, it'll get you out of my hair," said the man with a shrug."

Harry and Ron looked at each other for a second, before stepping forward.

The man rolled his eyes.

"I was afraid of that, alright come on, runts."

Harry and Ron followed him nervously from the shop.

"Where are we going?" asked Ron.

"I run an inn at the end of the street," I'm taking you there until I can figure out what to do with you.

Ron followed uneasily as did Harry.

"Ro—Hemlock, I really don't think we should follow him."

Ron hesitated and looked up as they passed Renette's shop. The woman was arranging books by the window. She looked up as they passed and saw the two terrified boys walking behind the old man. Her eyes softened and she waved to them with a smile that seemed to say: "Go on, you've got this."

Ron relaxed slightly, but Harry didn't. He could still picture the older man hexing Mundungus.

"It's fine, mate," muttered Ron.

Harry just kept walking.

They followed the man to one of the dark buildings. They reached one place where the windows were slightly dustier than the rest and stopped there. The sign said "Fletch's Place".

They went in through the front and the boys immediately noticed how deserted it was. As they walked through they saw a lonely bar, waiting for guests and a small army of chairs surrounding mismatch tables. A set of stairs led to the next floor but the man led Harry and Ron past these to a door in the back.

The kids were ushered into a small officer that was neater than Mundungus's shop had been and directed to stand in front of a desk.

The boys stood nervously as the man sat in the lone office chair.

"What're your names?" he asked, looking at them sternly.

"I'm Hemlock and this is James," said Ron.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm Mr. Fletcher, you can call me Fletch though," he said. He breathed in through his nose and stared the boys down. "So," he said. "Where are your parents boys?"

"It says in the note," said Ron. "You already know."

Mr. Fletcher looked at Ron shrewdly.

"I want to hear it from you," he said levelly.

"We're orphans," said Harry sadly. It was the truth for him so he could say it with much more sincerity than Ron could.

There was no sympathy in the man's face as he stared the boys down.

"And how did a pair of orphans such as yourselves wind up 'round here?"

"Looking for work," said Ron.

The man laughed.

"And what exactly can you both do that would make me wanna hire you?" he sneered. "Kids come through here all the time with one story or another saying they're looking for work because they've run away or what have you. What can you do that'll make you worth the trouble of keeping?"

"We can cook and clean," chimed in Harry nervously, already wanting to leave. _This man sounds like Uncle Vernon, what did we get ourselves in to?_

Mr. Fletcher snorted.

"Without wands? Please. You'd do an even worse job than the hag we already have hired to clean the place," he said unkindly.

Ron racked his brains for what he remembered about child laborers in the wizarding world. He'd asked his dad about it the a while back, when an article on the subject had hit it big in the daily profit.

"We can go into parts of magical forests you can't. We can get ingredients from creatures that don't trust adults but are willing to help kids out," he said slyly.

Mr. Fletcher's eyes suddenly lit up with interest.

"Go on," he continued.

"Well, we can do that and uh…well, the kind of ingredients that are harder to get cost a lot more on the market, don't they?" he said.

Fletch smirked suddenly and Ron wondered if he'd just passed some sort of test.

"I can't hire ya," the man said boredly.

Ron's face suddenly took on expressions of disappointment.

"But Renette said…" started Ron.

"I can't _hire_ ya," said the man emphatically. "It's illegal to employ kids, child labor they call it. It used to be different back in the day, back when I was a kid but the ministry started getting picky about fifty years ago.

If I took the pair of you on as wards like I did with that low life Dung, that'd be different. You two would be expected to do certain…_chores_ around the inn to earn your keep and if you help Mundungus with some of his work then you might receive a sort of…allowance, if you catch my drift."

"We can do that, sir," said Ron.

"Can you?" asked Fletch with a raised eyebrow. "I already got one deadbeat nephew, I don't need two more."

"R—Hemlock isn't a deadbeat," said Harry quietly, "and neither am I.

"Alright then, we'll try this out," said Fletch reluctantly. "If you two don't turn out a good profit right quick though I'm throwing you out no matter _what_ Renette says.

The boys looked at each other uneasily.

"Now stay put while I go sort out that heap of dung."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

At a different time in a different place, Auror Dennis had just popped home to tell his wife he'd be late, that he had to do some work on the Potter case. He had opened his mouth to call for her when his kids darted by. His older daughter was chasing the younger one. Her arm drawn back and ready to throw something…

"I don't think so, young lady!" he said angrily, snatching the dungbomb from the ten year old.

"Dad…what are you doing here?" she asked nervously.

"Is that you. Hon?" asked his wife, coming into the room.

"Yes, dear. I came in just as your daughter was about to pitch a dung bomb at her little sister in your nice clean house," he said with an artificially pleasant voice.

The woman narrowed her eyes.

"Up. Stairs," she growled. "I'll deal with you in a moment."

"But, Mom!"

"Now," she said.

The girl scampered off and the man sighed, tucking the dung bomb into his pocket unconsciously so he could greet his wife as she came up to him to give him a kiss.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Hours later Mad-Eye Moody walked into the Minister's office without so much as a warning.

"Moody, you can't just—" Fudge barked, but he was cut off as the man slammed a report down in front of him.

Fudge read the first lines, and then went white as chalk.

"My Death Eater theory isn't looking so paranoid now. _Is _it, Cornelius," growled Moody.

"How—How did he escape?" whispered Fudge, staring at the photo of Sirius Black.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The escape of Sirius Black was a set of circumstances, so perfectly aligned that it was as if his good luck had been saving up during all his years in Azkaban to pay him such a favor. His escape was a near impossibility and yet, by a miracle it had happened.

When Auror Dennis he had thrown down the prophet and demanded information Sirius Black had been shocked. This wasn't an unexpected outcome to the aurors, in fact it had been anticipated. However they expected the man to have some theories, so they waited. For a moment Dennis thought that Black looked horrified, even worried, but he pushed it aside. He supposed that the man was upset he hadn't gotten to the boy first. He had no idea what the man was really thinking.

Sirius's world was disintegrating. He had always known that he was innocent, that thought had kept him going, he also knew Harry was safe; another thought that sustained him. His happy memories were all but erased but sometimes, when he remembered the despair of finding his dead friends, he also remembered the sound of crying. It broke his heart, but it also reminded him that the boy was alive.

Now that he was momentarily away from the dementors he could conjure up images of his friends. As he looked at the front of the Daily Prophey he remembered the cute little baby face of his godson. It was hard to believe he had grown so much. He felt a pain in his chest as he looked at the photo. According to the date on the paper he would be around nine years old. He looked just as loveable as the Harry he remembered in this new photo, but he knew the reality, he knew that that lovable face even now might be etched with pain or fear. The impulse to transform and escape his panic, maybe even the _prison_ filled him, but he remembered his company and stopped himself part way through the transformation.

This was the moment. This was the moment where everything fell into place for Sirius. His nerves and his partial transformation heightened his senses. He could hear the demontors breathing outside the walls. He could smell one of the auror's cologne, the stew the other another had spilled on his shirt, the stink of the dungbomb in a pocket—

Sirius paused, then burst out laughing. It wasn't a joyous chuckle though, but a frantic one, one similar to the laugh he'd produced when he'd been brought to Azkaban all those years ago. It was just too absurd. An auror was standing in front of him with a dungbomb in his pocket interrogating him. It was the sort of thing he'd expect from James—

_James_

The memories that had started returning after he escaped the dementors slammed into him again and his eyes widened.

_The entrance to the boys' dorm opened and James came running through._

_ "Guys! You will not _believe_ what I found out!_

_ His grin could have split his face. _

The thing they had discovered all those years ago when they were spying on Zonkos, looking for ideas…

"You think this is funny? You sick son of a—" Auror Dennis was yelling.

…they had discovered that every Zonkos product had a test mode.

An idea formed in Sirius's head. He took a deep breath and looked at Dennis, who was speaking to him angrily, but Sirius couldn't hear him, he was too focused.

"Activate Dungbomb test mode," he whispered.

"What was that?" demanded Auror Dennis.

"I solemly swear…"

"Speak up, Black!" he said, brandishing his wand threateningly.

"…that I am up to no good."

The man's pocket exploded and he yelled in surprise.

Sirius used the cloud of gas as a cover to transform enough to escape his chains. The moment he did he stole auror Dennis's wand, stunned both him and his partner and ran off, slipping into dog form and sprinting away with the wand between his teeth.

The dementors let him pass, confused. They swarmed around, unsure of where the human had gone. He made it all the way out of the prison and ran off.

He leapt off of the island and into the water. There were no human guards around to see him go, just a mob of dementors whose senses were going beserk.

Sirius swan through the water. It was cold, but he didn't want to risk disapparating until he was well out of sight.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

**Thanks to Windschild8178 and OpenMindedPerson for letting me bounce ideas off them and for giving me suggestions. Thanks to everyone who PMed me and thanks to my reviewers. You guys rock. **


	9. Fairy Lights

**Thanks to TheStendanexperience for suggesting I bring Fred and George in more and to southernreader for pointing out that Percy didn't give Scabbers to Ron until later (which prompted me to give an explanation.) Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, particularly those who encouraged me to update! **

**Fun fact: I tried to write the word "serious" and I unconsciously started typing "Sirius" lol.**

"There's something glowing up ahead," said Harry quietly. The forest was spooky and dark, and Fletch had only allowed them a dim lantern to work with. They were very careful to stay near the creek, as Fletch had instructed, but the creek had forked off a while back and they were both beginning to wonder if they'd picked the right path.

"That has a greenish glow," Ron reminded him. "Fletch said we were looking for a bluish glow."

"I thought he said greenish-blue-ish," persisted Harry.

Ron shrugged.

"Let's check it out then."

He moved forward and Harry followed him nervously.

Fletch had been true to his word about not messing around. The very day they'd arrived was the day they'd procured their first assignment. As Fletch had put it "if they wanted beds tonight they had to earn them." The target? Kinder Pilz, a kind of brightly colored mushroom that sunk into the ground whenever adults were present but stayed put when kids were around. The top herbologists were still baffled by this reaction and would pay and arm and a leg for a research sample.

Since the boys had to travel without Mundungus, Fletch gave them each an arsenal of magical devices that would supposedly protect them from the dangers of the forest and placed them under a host of protective spells including the Bread Crumbs Charm, and the mortal peril charm. Ron was familiar with the mortal peril charm, it was what connected him to his family clock, but now it connected him to a watch Mundungus wore, so he would know if they were in any serious danger. He couldn't really explain the Bread Crumbs charm though and supposed he never would until he got lost. The most important device of all though was one that reminded Harry of a muggle grenade.

"_If anything happens, throw this. It will knock out anything in the vicinity smaller than a dragon and send up a smoke signal,"_ he'd told them.

"_What stops us from getting knocked out?" asked Harry._

"_Nothin' the man said. That's why no one ever_ _uses these; they knock out _everyone_. It's useful for your purposes though. If anything goes wrong, Dung can follow the smoke signal, collect you two before anything wakes up, and get you out of there."_

Harry frowned, patting the pocket with the grenade in it.

"You don't think there's dragons in this forest?" he asked nervously. "Fletch said these things can't knock out a dragon."

"Nah, the ministry caught all wild ones in Britain and sent em' to reservations," said Ron reassuringly.

The boys approached the glow, but they didn't find mushrooms, as Fletch had hoped, but little glowing creatures that zoomed around, giggling. They were beautiful, winged, men and women about two inches tall. The males emitted a gentle green glow that radiated around their whole body and grew subtly brighter around the wings. The females gave off a soft blue glow but it had a glitter to it that made Harry think of the pictures of Cinderella from Dudley's old fairytale books. Their giggles were musical and Harry could have sworn he heard one sing a few notes of an unfamiliar song.

"What are they?" breathed Harry.

"Fairies," said Ron, examining them. "They look different from the ones I see at home though."

A couple fairies giggled and approached Harry.

"Are they dangerous?" asked Harry warily.

"They pull your hair if you upset them, but as long as you remind them how PRETTY, they are," said Ron, raising his voice on the word pretty so the fairies could hear, "they're fine."

The fairies giggled and the compliment before gravitating towards Harry curiously.

"Erm, hello," said Harry, tentatively, pushing his—still invisible—glasses up his nose.

The faries suddenly flew forward in unison towards Harry, who flinched.

Ron's eyes widened in shock as the creatures stole Harry's invisible spectacles right off of his nose. The moment they lost contact with his skin they became visible again and the fairies shrieked with glee before taking off with them.

Ron charged after them and Harry blundered along behind, but between the dark and the loss of his glasses he couldn't see a thing. He fell over after a handful of steps, stood up and charged away in completely the wrong direction.

His feet pounded through the forest, following a brilliant glow off in the distance. He ran until he reached a clearing and looked around. The glow was coming from the ground and he reached down, squinting. The glow was too bright to be fairies, but without his glasses he had no was of telling what it was. He looked around for Ron but he saw nothing.

"Ron?" he asked, his voice growing scared.

There was no reply.

"Ron?!" he yelled.

* * *

><p>In a different forest clearing Ron was playing pickle in the middle with a bunch of fairies.<p>

"Give me those!" he shouted angrily, but the fairies merely giggled. He cursed, he'd forgotten how much fairies liked to play tricks. Usually the ones at his house sensed kindred spirits in Fred and George and gravitated to them.

When Ron realized he was getting nowhere he huffed and pulled out a fire cracker out of his bag. Fletch had given some to him and Harry to scare off tiny pests, like doxies. Ron only hopes they worked on fairies. He used a small, muggle lighter that Harry had taught him to use earlier and successfully lit the firecracker after three tries. Ron dropped it and took a few steps back before it exploded in a blinding array of red sparks. The fairies dropped Harry's glasses in shock and flew away shrieking as the sparks threatened to singe their wings.

Ron smirked and picked up the glasses off the forest floor.

"Got them, Harry!" Ron called.

There was no response. Ron frowned.

"Harry?" he asked.

He looked around before realizing that he wasn't sure where he'd just come from. Ron began to panic, but before he could _really_ get lost, he remembered something Fletch had told him.

_If you get lost, don't panic,_ Fletch had said. _I've placed the Bread Crumbs charm on your shoes. Just say "I'm lost," and it will activate the charm. _

"I'm lost," Ron said.

The soles of his shoes glowed and, to his surprise, so did a trail of footprints that led up to the spot he was standing.

"Wicked," Ron whispered. He followed the glow carefully while watching for signs of his missing friend.

"Harry!" he called.

* * *

><p>Harry was frantically rummaging through his bag, trying to find the right device to call Mundungus to his position, but he had trouble distinguishing which was which without his glasses.<p>

He was so intent on the task that he didn't notice something enormous step into the clearing until he heard a whinny. Harry looked up, terrified and saw a creature, glowing white. He froze, then he panicked and threw the entire bag at the thing with all his might. A giant plume of smoke exploded from the bag and that was the last thing Harry saw before his vision went black.

* * *

><p>Ron heard a bang in the distance and watched as, several yards away, a column of glowing smoke rose from the distance.<p>

He sprinted to the source, tripping on tree roots.

He made it to the clearing at the exact moment that Mundungus apparated in. They both stared at the scene. Harry was curled up on the ground, unconscious in an enormous patch of glowing flowers. On the other side of the clearing was a unicorn, laying elegantly on the forest floor.

"You kids got spooked by a bleedin' unicorn?" snorted Mundungus.

Ron knelt down next to Harry, sliding his glasses back onto his face as soon as Mundungus's back was turned. He then pulled a vial of magical smelling salt out of his own rucksack and held it under Harry's nose.

The boy's eyes opened wide and he sat straight up, panting.

"It's okay, Harry," Ron assured him. "It's just a unicorn.

Harry adjusted his once-more invisible glasses on his face and looked over. His jaw fell open when he saw the beautiful creature.

"Is that a unicorn?" breathed Harry.

"You know about them?" asked Ron.

"They're in muggle stories," Harry breathed as he looked at the radiant being, "I didn't know they were _real_." There was a sparkle in his eyes similar to that of a smile child who just learned about the tooth fairy.

"This is quite the beauty boys," said Mundungus. "Not what Fletch sent you for but it will make an outstanding profit never the less."

"You're not gonna kill it!" said Ron. " You'll be cursed!"

"Only the blood is cursed," snorted Mundungus. "The hair on the other hand…"

Harry and Ron frowned as they watched Mundungus take out a knife and hack away at the unicorn's tail hair. It was a sad sight and Harry began to feel bad for setting off the smoke signal in the first place.

"I'll get the horn next, that'll be worth quite the bundle of galleons," he muttered.

"You're gonna take it's horn?" asked Harry. "Won't that hurt?"

"It'll grow another one," said the man, dispassionately.

"Now make yourselves useful and start pulling hair from its mane.

Harry looked at Ron, then he looked at the smelling salts in Ron's hand.

Ron looked down at them and them at Harry. Both seemed to get the same idea at the same time. They stood up and walked over to the unicorn. Ron carefully set the smelling salts down in front of the unicorn while Mundungus wasn't looking and stepped back quickly.

The unicorn was still for a moment, then it stretched out a leg and kicked Mundungus in the face. The man roared in pain as the unicorn reared, screeching. It whirled around and charged Mundungus, its sharp horn going straight for the man. Mundungus leapt out of the way and disappearated. The creature stomped its hooves angrily and whirled on the two boys, who were cowering near a tree. Its eyes zeroed in on Ron.

The pair ran, sprinting away from the angry creature. They didn't bother to stop and see if it was chasing them they just ran and ran until Ron's shoulder knocked into something soft but huge. Ron fell painfully onto his knees. When he looked up, he saw a huge, horse-like creature with wings and a beak. Ron took a moment to realize that he was looking at a hippogriff, a real, live, hippogriff. If his brothers could be believed, these things were a lot more dangerous than the toys made them look.

Harry was watching, terrified. He had no idea what animal he was looking at but if he could go by the look on Ron's face, it wasn't friendly. Frantically, he wondered what to do. Neither of them had their bags, they'd left all their weapons in the clearing.

"S—sorry," he said, though he didn't know what good it would do.

The creature looked at him and neither Harry nor Ron dared to move, Ron didn't even dare to blink. Then, it too, got to his knees, on level with Ron. Ron gulped. The creature bucked his beak against Ron's hand and Ron carefully stroked the soft feathers of the creature.

Harry took a step forward and the hippogriff turned its gaze to him. Harry froze.

"I think we should go now, Ron," he said quietly. He took another step forward only to be knocked onto his butt by an enormous wing. The creature made an angry sound.

"Calm down," Ron pleaded, petting the creature and praying that it wouldn't just turn on him and peck his eyes out.

The bird looked at him.

"He—er, didn't mean it?"

Ron got the weird feeling that the bird understood him as it settled down considerably. Harry waited a minute, before shifting to his knees. He moved to stand, but when he was halfway up the hippogriff made an angry sound. Harry froze in an awkward bow, his eyes on the creature. The hippogriff looked into his eyes and Harry looked back, unsure of what to do. After a moment the creature sunk into what looked exactly like a bow. Harry gaped and next thing he knew the creature was nudging him into a standing position and nuzzling him. Harry patted him and shared an incredulous look with Ron.

"We, er, have to go now," said Harry to the creature and, like Ron, he got the strange feeling that it could understand them. The boys backed away slowly.

"I'm lost," Ron muttered when they were far enough away. The glow of his footsteps appeared once more and he and Harry ran away as fast as they could. When they got back to the clearing they found Mundungus.

"There you are! Where did you run off to?!" He demanded.

"Well, seeing as you disappearated and left us with an angry unicorn…" Ron trailed off, giving him a look.

"I jus' wen' to the other side of the clearing," said Mundungus weakly. "I was gonna stun it!"

Ron gave him a look and Mundungus coughed awkwardly.

"Anyway we've got the unicorn tail, and these glowing flowers have got ta be worth something. Let's pick some and get out of here," he said.

They boys readily agreed, and using the gloves from their bags they picked handfuls of the glowing flowers before vanishing into the night.

When they got back to the Inn, Fletch was waiting for them out back.

"Well?" he demanded.

"We got some unicorn hair," said Harry. "And some flowers." He held out a bunch to show Fletch, who glanced at them and scoffed.

"Those are Night Rays, they're used in decorating but they're worthless without the roots because they lose their glow."

Harry frowned.

"Alright, and where's the unicorn hair?"

"Mundungus has it," said Ron.

Fletch's eyes narrowed.

"Dung!" he hollered.

The man leapt away from the door to the Inn, which he'd just been about to escape through.

"I was jus' gonna take a leak!" he insisted, unconvincingly.

Fletch rolled his eyes.

"The hair, now," he said shortly.

Mundungus grumbled and pulled out the unicorn tail.

Fletch's eyebrow's shot up.

"This is nearly a whole tale. It has to be worth a thousand galleons at least!" He said.

Mundungus got a greedy look in his eye.

"Don't even think about it Dung," said Fletch sharply. "Your share of the profits is going towards your debt to Renette."

Mundungus scowled.

"Don't give me that look, you no account scoundrel. I know for a fact that you have a few strands you kept tucked into another pocket," said Fletch irritably.

He looked at Harry and Ron.

"Nice work boys, you've earned yourself a place to live."

The pair nodded. Too tired to really be excited. Fletch disillusioned the boys with his wand and snuck them to the attic of the inn. It was full of boxes but Fletch had placed a couple mattresses on the floor and made them up with bedding. He conjured up two large wooden tubs from some broken crates and filled them up with water.

"You can scrub up in those," he said with a grunt. "If ya need the lou there's one in the hall downstairs. " He looked around the room.

"I know this place ain't much. We can work on fixing it up later, but for now, get some sleep."

The pair nodded and Fletch left. They pair washed up quickly and climbed into bed. They had no energy to reflect on the day, in fact, they were asleep the moment their eyes closed.

* * *

><p>It was Monday morning and the twins were at breakfast with Percy, looking up and down the breakfast table for Bill and Charlie. They were due back for classes today, but none of the read heads had been able to locate their kin.<p>

"What if they don't come back?" asked Fred.

"Then we'll ask Mcgonagall to let us use her fireplace to call home," said Percy.

"She'd never let us," said George. "We'd miss classes. If anything she'd make us wait all day."

"Then we'll go to Hogsmede and use _their_ fire place," said Percy, his expression turning dark and determined.

Fred and George looked at each other, then at their brother. Was goody-two-shoes-Percy _actually _saying what they thought he was?

Percy ignored the shocked looks from his younger siblings and glared at his plate. He couldn't believe Ron had just run away!

His heart broke as he remembered the letter his brother had written. Mr. Weasley had sent a copy to each of his sons in case they picked up anything he and Mrs. Weasley had missed. He had dutifully sat down to dissect the text, looking for any hints, any clues at all. It hadn't done any good. All it had done was etch the words into his memory.

_I thought you wanted us all to be good like Percy. Was I doing it wrong? I don't understand why you got so annoyed when I was trying_ _to be like Percy._

The words sickened him. All those times he'd told Ron he was being bad, or that he needed to try harder. He'd always been guilty of reprimanding Ron too much, and he wasn't the only one.

The twins told Ron he couldn't take a joke and should get a sense of humor, Ginny would tell him he was annoying and needed to be cooler, Charlie would say that he needed to conquer his fear of spiders. Even Bill would reprimand him over silly things. Not to mention the fact that his Mum was so busy that she rarely had time to recognize the good deeds of her youngest son, just the things he needed to correct about himself.

_We did this_, thought Percy. It was an unpleasant realization but it was true. They'd all picked on Ron while coddling Ginny, because Ginny was the baby, Ginny was the girl. They hadn't stopped to think about the fact that little Ron was only a year older than her and that he needed to be the center of attention just as much as she did.

It wasn't right. He knew this; he supposed he'd known it all along and just hadn't thought about it much. Like when his year mates started teasing "Perfect Percy" for having a non-regulation pet and he'd decided he'd have to get rid of Scabbers. He didn't want to risk his chances of becoming prefect on a rat and thought that giving him to one of his youngest siblings would be best. His mind had jumped to Ron, who would absolutely love the idea of having a pet for his very own. He remembered smiling at the idea of doing something that would make Ron feel important.

Looking back, Percy wondered how it hadn't bothered him that Ron didn't _already_ feel important.

_P.S. I'm taking Scabbers with me. Percy told me to take good care of him, and I wouldn't be doing that if I left him behind._

Percy wondered how a kid like Ron could take care of a rat _and_ himself while he was alone, with no family or friends.

"Perc!" said Fred.

Percy looked up and saw Bill standing in the entrance to The Great Hall. He waved at his siblings before slipping out the door.

The three boys stood up and went in the direction he'd gone. As soon as the left The Great Hall they saw Bill and Charlie waiting for them.

"Come with us, we'll fill you in," said Charlie, looking tired.

The all proceeded silently to an unused classroom and slipped inside, shutting the door behind them. They all perched on various desks and once they were all settled, Bill spoke.

"Mum didn't want us to say anything, but you're all pretty sharp so you'll find this out eventually."

The brothers tensed and waited for Bill to speak.

"You know how Harry Potter has gone missing recently?" he asked.

Percy, Fred, and George nodded.

"The whole school's been talking about it," mumbled George, "but I don't see—"

"Harry going missing is a high priority case," said Charlie and his brothers could see the anger in his face. "It's _so _high priority, that they've put many of what they call the "lower priority" cases on hold."

Fred and George looked confused but Percy caught on to what they were saying.

"You're telling me that they're not looking for Ron anymore?" Percy asked quietly.

"On paper they are," said Bill grimly, "bat Dad's heard enough at work to know that they aren't."

Bill and Charlie had expected the twins to get angry and to start ranting, and for Percy to be annoyed, but calm. They thought that, since Percy was so enamored with the idea of working for the Ministry, he would be frustrated but accepting of the fact that that was just the way the government worked sometimes.

That's what they expected, but they received the opposite.

The twins eyes widened and they were stunned speechless and Percy…Percy exploded.

"That's bloody stupid! Just because we're poor and Dad works in a small office does NOT mean that they can just IGNORE Ron! What IDIOT wrote the policy that allows people to shove a case aside just because some famous kid goes missing? I mean, sure he's Harry Potter but MY brother is Ron freaking Weasley, his case should be JUST as important!"

Bill and Charlie looked at each other in surprise while the twins nodded their agreement, their faces growing angrier with every word Percy spoke.

The boys didn't even get a chance to reply because the door flew opened and Professor Mcgonagall entered the room.

"What is all this yelling about?" she demanded angrily, taking in the scene with a glare.

"Those morons at the Ministry aren't looking for Ron anymore," Percy said, trying to control himself in the professor's presence. "Apparently Harry Potter is more important."

Professor Mcgonagall blinked, not at all expecting the sass that she had just received. She shook it off and her sharp look softened slightly with sympathy.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said softly, trying to soothe the angry boys. "Bear in mind though that it's not only the ministry who is searching. Your family has many friends that are all keeping an eye out. We will find him, in the mean time I must ask that you remain calm—"

"I'll calm down when I have my brother back," Percy snapped. He paused suddenly, looking shocked that he'd actually taken that tone with a teacher.

"Umm…Sorry professor."

Professor Mcgonagall looked at him cooly.

"If you'll excuse me, I must prepare for my class. I expect to see you two there," she said pointing at Fred and George.

She strode out of the room and shut the door behind her.

The room was silent for a moment before Fred let out a whistle.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Perce," he said.

The boy grimaced, now feeling sheepish as he came down from his anger.

"I suppose I _was _sort of channeling mum there for a moment," he admitted.

"That's an understatement," said Bill. "But Mcgonagall was right, there's more than just the Ministry, and you're mad if you think Dad is taking this lying down. He's quit his job at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office so he could be reassigned to Ron's case. Getting support is slow-going, but Moody is working with him because he thinks maybe Ron and Harry's cases are connected."

"Moody, he's the famous auror, right?" asked Percy.

"Yes," said Bill.

Just then the door burst open and Lee Jordan came into the room, clutching a newspaper.

He swallowed as he looked at the boys uneasily.

"What's wrong, Lee?" asked George, his stomach sinking at the look on his friend's face.

"I nicked this paper from the girl next to me," he said. "I'm sorry mate, I just—thought it would be better for you to know—"

Alarm bells went off in Bill's head and he rushed forward and snatched up the paper.

He stared at it and the color slowly left his face. The paleness reminded Charlie of pictures of vampire victims he'd seen in textbooks.

"What is it?"

Fred asked the question none of them were brave enough to speak.

Bill said nothing. Percy and Charlie exchanged looks and went up behind their brother and the second they read the headline, Charlie collapsed into a desk, looking stunned.

"What?!" asked Fred and George together, terrified.

"There was an Azkaban breakout. A man named Sirius Black is on the loose," said Lee. "He's after Harry Potter, so I don't think you need to worry too much about Ron but—"

"Didn't Moody think that Harry and Ron's cases were connected though?" asked Percy, his hands shaking.

Lee's eyes widened.

* * *

><p>The kitchen of the burrow was silent. The ministry had told Moody that he did not have permission to tell the Weasley's anything until the daily prophet was sent out. They weren't to know a thing until the rest of the public did. Mad-Eye-Moody didn't believe in the ministry's judgment though, especially when it came to things that truly <em>mattered<em>. He'd slipped away as soon as he could and knocked on the door to the burrow two hours before the prophet went out. Mad-Eye would be willing to lose his other leg before he let a pair of parents find out about a thing like that in a bloody _newspaper._

It was early, just after four in the morning but there were lights on in the burrow. Molly opened the door a mere moment after Moody's knock and after a single look at his face she went to the flue and called her husband's office. Arthur stepped through at once and the pair turned to look at Moody.

"What is it?" whispered Arthur, summoning courage.

"There's been a break out from Azkaban," said Moody solemnly.

He proceeded to gravely explain how Sirius Black had escaped and his possible connection to the case. By the time he had finished both of the Weasley's were staring at him blankly. Moody wondered vaguely if he should keep talking or if he should just wait for the inevitable explosion to occur.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley, in a cracked voice. "We'll—we'll—we'll just—" he trailed off then, without warning he reached out towards the kitchen counter and knocked every item on it onto the floor.

"Those bloody pillocks!" he roared as dishes shattered. Tears ran down the man's face as he snatched a teacup and chucked it across the room. "How could they let this happen?!" he demanded, shoving a lamp to the floor. The fire from it spread to the floor, licking at the wooden boards. Moody put it out calmly, waiting patiently for the man to calm down. He was cursing and throwing things around the kitchen, swearing at the top of his lungs..

Molly was simply standing there, in a daze. Moody's gaze shifted and he saw two frightened girls at the bottom of the staircase in the other room. Deciding it was best to leave the couple alone for a moment he approached the girls. Ginny cowered at the sight of him but Luna remained stationary.

"Why is Mr. Weasley so angry?" she asked neutrally.

"Because a bad man got out of jail," said Moody bluntly. He never saw the point in lying to children, no matter how young. After all, how could they remain vigilant if they were kept in the dark?

Ginny's eyes widened.

"Don't worry though, we'll catch him. You girls just go back to bed."

Ginny looked hesitant, but Luna took her hand with a smile.

"Come on, Ginny. I suspect you're dad's got a few extra nargles in his head, you can see him when they leave."

Ginny followed, frowning.

Moody watched the girls leave before reentering the kitchen just in time to see Mr. Weasley shove his fist through a window. The sight of blood as he pulled his fist back seemed to awaken Molly as she moved forward and grabbed her husband's arm.

"Arthur. Arthur! Listen to me," she begged as he struggled against her.

"I'll kill him! If that man touches our baby I'll kill him!" roared Arthur.

"Arthur, look at me!"

Molly took her husband's face between her hands and looked into his eyes intensely.

"We will get him back, Arthur. If it's the last thing we do we will get him _back_."

Arthur took one more breath before dropping his head onto his wife's shoulder, breathing hard.

Moody glanced at the man's hand.

"Repairo," he said gruffly.

Arthur gave a muffled yelp as glass shards flew from his hand and sealed themselves back into the window frame. Molly led Arthur over to a kitchen chair and sat him down, slowly healing his hand as Moody went around the kitchen muttering various "repairo" and "scourgify" sharms under his breath. Once the kitchen was laid back to rights Moody sat down across from the couple.

"Listen you two," he said grimly. "I won't sugar coat this. This is not a good situation, but it's not as bad as it could be." He adjusted his seat in his chair and looked at them levelly.

"If death eaters do have the boys it's not likely they'll kill them. They are far too valuable. Harry is valuable because he conquered the dark lord, any of Voldemort's supporters that are avid enough to do this probably are operating under the belief that he's coming back. This means that they'll keep him alive so the dark lord may be use of him later," both of Moody's eyes were fixed on the pair and his deformed hands were resting on the counter.

"But our Ronnie, what use is he to the Dark Lord?" asked Molly.

"If my theory is correct, he was used to help kidnap Harry. That alone is enough to earn him safety amongst death eaters, once you add in his affinity for apparition, they'll value him very highly indeed," said Moody.

"We're blood traitors though," mumbled Mr. Weasley as he wiped his eyes.

"_You_ are blood traitors," Moody corrected. "Given his skills and blood status, Ron is probably young enough to be salvaged in their eyes. All is not lost, in fact Sirius's escape will probably make it easier to find the boys."

"How?" asked Molly desperately.

"The more people involved in a covert operation, the more chances of there being a leak somewhere. We just have to wait for them to make a mistake. We will get them, we just need to stay vigilant."

Arthur nodded, wiping his eyes once more before standing up.

"I'm going back to the office then. If what you say is true we need to be ready."

"I'll go with you," said Moody. "I might be able to get more attention back on Ron's case, what with this new development."

Molly stood up too.

"I'll owl Xenophilius. If Marigold is doing better I'll ask him to watch the girls so I can come join the search," she said in determination.

Arthur nodded curtly.

"We'll see you soon, Molly," and with that he vanished into emerald flames.

* * *

><p>At another time, in a different place…<p>

Petunia Dursley watched the police drive away with a worried expression. The moment she realized her nephew was missing she'd done the responsible thing and phoned the police. She may have despised her nephew but she knew intellectually that he _was_ only a child and even she wasn't so heartless as to delight in the fact that he was gone. She knew what kind of men were out there and she wouldn't wish for any child to be taken by them, not even freaks.

Petunia sighed and walked into the kitchen, sitting down to think. She'd had to spend all afternoon in the police station after she realized her nephew wasn't at the park or at home, then they came to investigate the house. She'd cried through a lot of it, though more because it was the expected response then because she was actually sad. She felt remorse, yes, but a part of her was hoping that the freak had simply run away and would never be back again.

She'd been very lucky indeed to pass off the cupboard under the stairs as a playhouse. An officer had raised an eyebrow at the lock, but she claimed it was to prevent Dudley and Harry from opening it when they were babies and getting into the cleaning supplies she had once kept there. She had been able to pass herself off as the perfect doting parent, of course she had, she was a wonderful mother…she even cared for stupid freaks, she was a good caretaker.

Petunia squashed the pang of guilt rising within her. She would have never let Dudley play at that park by himself…No! No, it didn't matter. The boy had probably run off and was hiding out in some empty house or building, eating stolen sweets and laughing at all of them as they ran around like frantic mice. Stupid boy.

Petunia sighed wearily as she listened to her son playing video games.

_He's really broken up about this…_She had told the cops when her nephew showed no concern over his cousin's whereabouts. _I think he's just in shock. Harry's like a little brother to him. They've been together since they were babies. _She continued repeating this to herself. Dudders was a sweet boy, he cared, really he did. He just didn't understand that Harry was in real danger…

Vernon had gone out for a drive to look for the boy. He hated the kid too but he, like Petunia knew that they couldn't very well leave him outside in the cold.

Petunia was startled out of her thoughts as the doorbell rang.

She opened the door and two of her neighbors were standing there. Linda Polymore and Tillie Duncan were heads of the home owner's association and had great pull in the suburban neighborhood.

"Hello, Petunia, we saw the police cars outside and we just wanted to see if everything was alright," said Linda.

If there was one thing Petunia was good at, it was being dramatic. Even though her feelings over her nephew at the moment ranged from mildly worried to moderately uneasy, she still managed to burst into tears right on cue, just as she had done at the police station.

"Oh, it's dreadful!" she wailed, "dear Harry has gone _missing_!"

The neighbor's gasped.

"How terrible Petunia! Do let us in, we can fix you a cup of tea and you can tell us all about it."

She allowed the two women to usher her inside and sit her down at the kitchen. It was so organized that Tillie didn't have to search before finding the tea leaves and the kettle. Petunia retold her story, embellishing on it to make herself look as good as possible.

"I was running errands, and Harry needed to use the lou. We were passing a play park and he asked me to drop him off there. I promised him I'd be back in ten minutes and told him to stay at the park, but when I came back, he was _gone_!" she wept.

"There were other children his age there and plenty of mothers, I thought he would be safe! I was only gone ten minutes!"

"You poor thing," said Linda, "how terrible! Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be alright. He probably got distracted by an ice cream vendor and wandered off."

Petunia continued manufacturing tears as she sucked up the attention and sympathy like a sponge. Petunia _loved_ being the center of attention, even in situations like this.

"Which park did you leave him at?" asked Tillie, and Petunia was grateful that she'd left him at the suburban park, if this had happened in a city park they might blame _her_ for the whole fiasco.

"The one near Wisteria!" said Petunia.

Tillie jumped to her feet with a dramatic gasp.

"Surely not! The one _here_? Gracious, I must go, my Abigail and Peter went to go play there!" Tillie rushed out the door and Linda got a dark look on her face.

"To think that something like this could happen in _our_ neighborhood. Don't worry Petunia. I'll send out the alert to all association members not to send their children to the play park without one adult _minimum_ and I'll make up some fliers for Harry. Do you have a picture of him?"

"Harry doesn't really like to be photographed," said Petunia, whipping out the excuse she had used on the police when they asked why she only had pictures of Dudley. "Lily, my sister, was like that too so I try and respect his wishes."

"Surely you have at least _one_," said Linda, frowning.

"Yes, of course," said Petunia with a laugh and she vaguely remembered ordering some school pictures of the boy last year when the teachers at the school began to question Harry's treatment at home.

_ Where did I put those?_

Petunia stood up and rifled through a kitchen drawer until she found them at the bottom.

"Here we are," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

She took the one where the boy looked most presentable and handed it to Linda.

"Will this do?"

"Yes, that will work just fine," said Linda with a serious nod. "Don't worry, I'll go do those fliers now and inform the neighborhood watch. I'll be back to check on you soon."

"Thank you," said Petunia, stiffly accepting the hug Linda gave her.

The woman left and Petunia got herself some water. Crying was exhausting after all. When she turned around though she screamed and dropped the glass. It shattered across the tiled floor, some of the shards hitting the shoes of a very tall man with a long beard. Petunia froze as he stared down at her, he was wearing purple robes and half moon glasses and was looking very grave.

"You! What are you doing in my house?! How did you get in?"

"Through the front door," said the man. "I have ways of knowing when something is wrong with Harry and I was alerted to the absence of his presence this afternoon. The house was empty when I arrived and I've investigated enough to know that that cupboard is _not_ a clubhouse and Harry has _never_ slept in the spare bedroom as you told the police."

"How did you know that?" demanded Petunia, going pale.

"Come, Petunia, your sister could fly on brooms and change a teapot into a Puffer fish, do you honestly believe that wizards are unable to observe without being seen?"

"Yo—you've been _spying?!_" demanded Petunia and she found that she was filled with rage at the very concept. How_ dare_ he?

She snatched a tea cup from the table and threw the liquid in Dumbledore's face.

Dumbledore allowed it to hit him and gazed levelly at Petunia before he slowly reached for his wand. Petunia gasped and cowered back in fear as he pulled out the long strip of wood. Dumbledore paid her no mind though; he merely used it to clean the tea off of his face and robes. Petunia gaped at him and the old wizard lowered his arm to the side, though he didn't put away his wand. Petunia found her eyes were glued to it as the man spoke.

"Now, you and your son will sit down and tell me exactly what happened today in the park."

"You're not going near my Dudders!" yelled Petunia, coming out of her shock.

"The sooner I talk to him, the sooner I will leave. You don't want me around when your friend returns, do you?"

Petunia blanched at the idea of this wizard staying in her house longer than necessary, but Dudders…

"Only if you put that—that _thing _away," said Petunia firmly.

"I will not draw my wand if you do not attack," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Fine. But under no circumstances will you use magic on my Dudley!"

"You have my word," said Dumbledore.


	10. Pond Scum

**Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to update. This chapter is a couple thousand words shorter than the norm but the next one will be longer. I would have posted them both at once but I've received lots up requests to update ASAP so I'll give you what I can. You're welcome to put in your reviews whether you prefer****: cliffies or shorter chapters with more frequent updates**** OR ****longer chapters with less frequent updates**** so I can keep it in mind for the future. Thanks for those of you who are sticking with me! I love you all :)**

There were several virtues that Fletch lacked, sympathy, honesty, and fairness to name a few. Despite his many flaws no one could ever say that he was a fool. He'd known something was fishy the moment the two kids had come around asking for work and he'd done some investigating after they went to bed. It struck him as odd that two boys around the age of nine had come to him at the same time that a pair of nine year olds had gone missing from their homes. The pair looked nothing like the kids in the papers, sure, but looks could be altered.

Fletch ran over what he knew again and again and eventually decided that he'd have to pull the truth out of Renette. With that thought in his mind he grabbed his cloak and walked out of the pub, past the gruff men and women who were fishing out sickles to buy "_just one more"_ fire whiskey.

He stormed across the street to knock on the bookshop door but there was no answer. Fletch figured Renette had gone to sleep, so naturally he chose to knock louder. After five minutes she thundered downstairs in wrinkled clothes to open the door.

"What?" the woman hissed, pointing her wand at his face.

"You need to tell me about those boys I'm keeping in my attic, Renette," growled Fletch.

The woman blanched and looked up and down the street before muttering a quick "obliviate." Fletch didn't have a chance to dodge with Renette's wand in his face and his eyes went glassy. All memories of reading the paper and his suspicions about the boys' identities flew from his mind and he stood there with a blank scowl on his face.

"It's good to know the boys have turned such a profit," said Renette as if they were having a conversation.

"Huh? Oh yes, a unicorn tail. Dung's share will go to paying you back. I'd better get back to the pub and finish up those documents for the boys."

"Good idea. Though it's probably best to keep them out of sight until everything is settled, it would be a shame if someone else saw what good workers they are and challenged your custody."

"No, that would be bad," Fletch said, looking annoyed at the very idea.

"I'll let you get back to your place if that's all you had to say to me. Do your patrons a favor though and lay off the firewhiskey, alright? You reek!"

The last of the uncertainty left Fletch's face as he instantly attributed his confusion to drunkenness and he turned and walked back to his bar without another word.

Renette shut the door to her shop. She wondered briefly if she'd done the right thing before shrugging off the concern. She didn't move to Knockturn Alley because she had wisest moral compass, after all.

The following morning, Fletch woke up feeling he'd forgotten something important. Attributing it to the need to start on falsifying documents for the boys he moved through the closed bar to his office and got started.

* * *

><p><em>Dear Mum, Dad, and Everyone else,<em>

_ I saw in the paper that you reported me missing, but I'm not missing at all, in fact, I'm doing great. I left a letter on the clock explaining everything; did you not find it? Well in any case you can call off the search, because I'm doing quite well. I've found a new place to live and I've even made a friend! Scabbers is also doing well, so tell Percy not to worry. I'll write again soon. Cheers!_

_Love, _

_Ron _

Ron ran a hand through his hair as he re-read what he'd written. He wasn't feeling nearly as carefree as he sounded. He knew his family was worried, he felt stupid for letting himself believe that they wouldn't be. Now that he'd had a few (admittedly crazy) days away from his family, he was beginning to wonder if running away had really been all that smart of a decision.

The boy's lip wobbled for a moment as an abrupt wave of homesickness hit him. He'd never been away from his mum and dad for so long before and he was starting to wish he could go back to The Burrow. He couldn't, of course. His Dad always told him how important it was to be a man of his word, and he'd promised Harry he'd look after him. If he went back now he ran the risk of Harry getting sent back to the Dursleys and he couldn't allow that to happen.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry, coming over to sit down on the wood floor next to his friend. Ron sat up straight, banishing the sad look from his filthy face. The boys were both covered in dirt: they'd spent the whole day cleaning the attic they'd slept in during the night. They'd been rewarded for their toil with warm meals provided by Fletch and permission to use any items they managed to scavenge from attic storage. So far this included the quills, ink, and parchment, Ron was currently using to write his letter.

"Just wrote a note to my family to let them know that I'm alright. I feel bad for making them worry," he confessed. "I mean, I'm almost Hogwarts age and all my brothers left home at Hogwarts age, so they really shouldn't be so fussed but—" Ron shrugged.

Harry frowned, confused by Ron's attitude.

"It sounds like they care about you," he said, slowly.

"They do," Ron said in the flat tone, trying to shove down the guilt and insecurity as it threatened to dwindle his resolve.

"Why did you leave then?" Harry asked. He'd assumed at firs that Ron had been like him, unwanted by his family. The more he talked to Ron though the more clear it became that wasn't the case. But else would he leave? Harry couldn't imagine running away from a family that _cared_ about him.

"I didn't think they'd miss me all _that _much," said Ron with an embarrassed shrug. "I have five older brothers and a little sister, and I'm the least favorite so it really shouldn't have been that big of a deal," confusion and hurt filled the boy's blue eyes and he stared at the wall.

Harry thought about the statement for a moment before he nodded.

"It's annoying when all the people you know like everyone else better than you," he said sadly, thinking of his classmates and the Dursleys.

Ron slung an arm around Harry's shoulder and Harry flinched at the contact on instinct.

"You can be _my_ favorite," the redhead said confidently, before releasing the tense boy.

Harry blinked, unsure of how to respond to the statement.

"Your favorite?" he asked confused.

"Yep," said Ron. "You'll be my favorite friend ever!"

Harry continued to stare at Ron and the boy blushed, realizing that such a statement back home would earn taunts from his older brothers. Harry didn't tease him though, instead he smiled a little cheekily and said: "If I'm your favorite friend ever, will you let me mail off that letter? I've never used a post owl before."

"You're on!" said Ron with a grin, "just as soon as we find an owl."

Harry wanted to reply, but the door opened just then and Fletch strode in, glancing over the pair.

"Just came to tell you that you'll be leaving for the forest again tonight. Same procedure as yesterday; just try not to get attacked by a unicorn this time."

The boys nodded.

"I'd take a nap if I were you. If you want that rat to stay you're going to have to earn his place here and that means being well rested," said the man, gesturing at the creature in Ron's pocket. Ron put his hand over it protectively, glaring at Fletch slightly. The man had nearly killed his pet on sight earlier that day when he walked into the attic with their lunch and found him on the windowsill.

Fletch snorted at the child's attempt at ferocity and left the boys alone to rest.

* * *

><p>It had been a risk going to Grimmauld. Sirius had had no choice though, he needed resources, funds. He may have been able to gain access to his Gringotts account using his dog form in an ideal world, but that cover was now blown. Mere hours after his escape a warning was issued regarding his status as an animargus. He was certain Remus was behind it. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth but he didn't have time to dwell.<p>

He'd ordered the lunatic house elf left behind by his mother to help him scrape up all the gold the late Lord Black had hidden in the house. If he played his cards right there was enough to keep him funded for a couple of months. Not that he was planning to take that long. Time was of the essence and Sirius was determined to see his godson safe and sound if it was the last thing he ever did.

Phase one of the plan was bold, and when he took one look in the mirror he never thought he cold pull it off. He was sure the haunted look Azkaban had given him would ruin any disguise he conjured. When he stopped to consider himself in

the mirror however, he realized he could use his grim appearance to his advantage.

Wasting no time, Sirius cut his hair short to outline his face and did an artfully poor job of washing it, giving it a greasy look. He transfigured his face to look scarred and pale and worked to give his eyes a bloodshot look. By the time he was finished he looked like the very picture of a dragon pox survivor. He smirked, winding a scarf around himself as he congratulated himself on the idea. A passerby couldn't tell anything was wrong from a distance, as he'd chosen baggy clothes, but those who came near him would recognize the signs immediately and steer clear of him.

He hobbled from his house, ordering Kreacher once again not to sabotage him and made his way to Knockturn Alley.

* * *

><p>"How dare you come in here and—"<p>

"Mr. Dursley, I assure you that we are here in the best interest of your family."

"Poppycock!"

Dumbledore sat off to the side coldly observing Mr. Dursley's tantrums and Mrs. Dursley's pleas. He didn't normally take pleasure in the suffering of others, but when those "others" happened to be a couple that maliciously abused a child for the span of several _years_ he didn't mind indulging in some petty satisfaction.

Dumbeldore had had no idea of the abuse Harry had endured and he felt disgusted with himself for not seeing it. As it stood he wanted very much to send the muggles to jail, but to his fierce annoyance the wards falling meant the Dursleys were at great risk. Allowing their arrest would make it painfully easy for them to be tracked down and the wizard couldn't allow himself to send the family to their deaths, especially since they had a son. That didn't mean he was letting them off easy however. Dumbeldore had informed the ministry of his suggested course of action and they had been all to eager to implement it:

For their protection the Dursleys were to change their names and move to a small community in Ireland. They were to have no connection to their old life, which essentially meant that all records of Vernon's success at Grunnings and of his college education would be erased. The three Dursleys would be starting at the very bottom of the social ladder, no connections, no references, and no money to their name but what they currently had in their bank account. When Petunia realized this she had begun to wail and her arrogant husband had shouted over the sound of her sobs.

"We will not abandon our lives for that stupid, little, FREAK!"

"Mr. Dursley, if you value the safety of your wife and son you will comply. If not we will leave you to the mercy of the British legal system and hope that no one comes to murder you whilst you are in jail awaiting trial for child abuse," said the ministry worker coolly.

Mrs. Dursley went pale and Dumbeldore turned to leave. He wished he could stay longer but he had business to attend to.

* * *

><p>"You don't think we'll run into another unicorn do you?" asked Harry uneasily.<p>

"I don't know. If we do let's try not to knock it out this time. I doubt we could get away with waking it up again before Dung can saw off its horn," said Ron, lifting his lamp up high as they moved through the forest. They were still looking for Kinder Pilz, though they hadn't had much luck. Still, they were determined. Fletch had discovered Scabbers earlier that day and said that they absolutely were not allowed to keep a rat in his bar unless they brought back something good from the forest.

"What about those rocks?" asked Harry interestedly as he, pointed to a pile of shimmering red stones at the base of a tree.

"Just some plain rocks sprinkled with fairy dust. There are probably some in the area," said Ron dismissively. "We get ones like that in the yard all the time. Ginny loves to play with them. She's always so put out when the dust fades."

Harry smiled, though he felt a little put out himself. They had been walking for over an hour and they hadn't found anything more interesting than the glittering rocks. Still, he'd rather be hunting down mushrooms in a magical forest than scrubbing toilets at the Dursley's so he didn't complain.

They continued to move forward when suddenly something moved through the forest. The boys froze and watched nervously as a dark shape stepped out of the tree line and into the small clearing they were in. Ron prepared the knock out bomb, poised to strike at any moment. Then the creature stepped into the light of their lamp and Harry nudged Ron's arm.

"Is that the Hippo-thing from yesterday?" he breathed.

"Hippogriff, and yea," Ron whispered back. They kept their eyes fixed on it.

"Bow," whispered Ron suddenly.

"What?" asked Harry.

"It was happy when we bowed yesterday, just do it."

The pair bowed, too nervous to look away from the creature. It bowed back.

Harry blinked uneasily.

The creature straightened up, ruffled its feathers and gave the boys an approving nod before trotting off into the forest.

"Blimey," Ron whispered.

"Yea," said Harry shakily.

They waited several minutes, just to make sure the hippogriff was truly gone before they started walking again.

They moved through the trees warily until they heard a familiar sound.

"Water," said Harry, pointing in the direction the sound was coming from.

Excited at the discovery, they rushed forward. The sound of running water grew closer and closer. The boys broke through the tree line and—

"Ah!"

The ground disappeared abruptly, giving way to a short but steep bank next to a deep pond that was fed by a river.

Ron, who had been in the lead, had no time to stop, and he tumbled over the bank, rolling straight into the pond.

"Ron!"

Harry shouted, running to the bank's edge.

The red haired boy popped out of the water, spitting out water and coughing.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"—it's-c-cold!—" Ron choked between coughs. Shivering, he moved to climb out of the icy pond, cursing himself for losing his rucksack, which had fallen off during his tumble. He had just placed a trembling hand on the pond's bank when something latched onto his ankle.

Ron yelped in surprise and suddenly he was pulled straight under the water. The boy barely had time to close his mouth tight and hold his breath before his head slipped under the water's surface. Ron's lungs instantly ached as he struggled to swim back to the surface but whatever had grabbed onto him was pulling him further down. The cold pierced at him and Ron felt his limbs slowly turning to lead as he trued to fight his way out of the clutches of whatever had him. Bubbles flew from Ron's mouth and he felt a painful pinch in his chest as his body prepared to suck in a breath.

_I'm going to drown._

The thought filled his head and in that instant his mind cleared. He had mere seconds left and he reached desperately for his magic. He felt it surge up in him and his mind focused on one thing and one thing only.

_Shore. I need to get to the shore._

Water flooded Ron's mouth as his body twisted then, a sudden, squeezing pressure surrounded Ron, squashing his air-starved lungs. His head grew light and he lost consciousness just as his body hit the ground near the pond.

* * *

><p>Harry heard Ron yell and saw bubbles come up from the surface of the water. Harry panicked and jumped up. He crouched his knees to dive in but a thought stopped him.<p>

_I can't swim. At least, not well enough to save him. If I go in…we'll both drown._

Harry let outa frantic wheeze and clutched his hair.

_What do I do? What do I do?!_

A voice, similar to Dudley's, filled his head.

_Call Fletch, moron!_

Harry dived for his rucksack, grabbed a wet-start firework, and tossed it in the pond. A red light instantly rocketed into the air and burst above the trees with a loud _boom!_

Merely a second later there was a _pop_! right next where Harry was sitting.

Harry whirled around, expecting to see Mundungus but instead he saw Ron, laying down, eyes closed.

"Ron!" shouted Harry, reaching out and shaking the soaked boy.

Ron coughed suddenly and his eyes flew open as he began sucking in breaths.

There was another _pop!_ And Mundungus appeared.

"Whas' happened?" he asked, looking between the two boys.

"Ron was drowning," said Harry shakily as Ron continued coughing.

Mundungus pointed his wand at the boy and muttered an incantation.

A warm feeling enveloped Ron's chest and the spasms settled. Another flick of the wand and his clothes were suddenly dry and warm.

Ron sucked in some deep breaths as Mundungus knelt down next to him.

"Alrigh' there, boy?"

Ron looked down at himself to see if he'd splinched anything. When he saw everything in tact he nodded.

"Something grabbed me and pulled me down," he added.

Harry went stiff and Mundungus stood up quickly and cast a spell over the pond. The water was illuminated and despite himself Harry peeked over to see what was under the surface.

He jumped as he spotted s a small, pale, _thing_ about the size of a toddler with long fingers and cold eyes drifting in the pond's depths.

"Aha! A Grindylow," said Mundungus excitedly.

"What?" croaked Ron, going over to look at the water too.

"Arg!" he yelled in disgust when he saw the creature. "What is that?!"

"Water demon, likes to drown people. I know a bloke who's been looking for one. I reckon he'd pay a fair price for this one." He moved his wand over the pond.

"Ah, there's another!"

The two boys watched uneasily as he expertly used magic to extract the creatures from the lake, stun them and toss them into a sack.

"Let's pop back and see if this is enough for old Fletch," said Mundungus, summoning Ron's backpack, grabbing the pair and disapperating.

Fletch came out to meet them the moment he heard their arrival.

"What have you got for us?" he demanded.

Mundungus proudly emptied the rucksack of its contents. There was a pause, then—

"You idiot!" cried Fletch, hastily conjuring some scrap wood next to the bar and transfiguring it into a solid, wooden barrel.

"Aguamenti!" he cried and the barrel filled with water.

Without hesitation Fletch seized the two creatures and dumped them into the barrel.

"These things need water to _breathe_, you fool!" he exclaimed, cuffing Mundungus on the back of the head. He peered into the barrel and an angry hand shot up, reaching for his face.

Fletch dodged it narrowly stepped back with a flustered huff.

"Well, they appear to have survived the trip at least. Let's see if they last until tomorrow. If they die though Fletch it's on your head! Those kids don't go out to the forest for you to kill what they gather, do they?"

Mundungus grumbled under his breath as he rubbed the back of his head and Mundungus turned to Harry and Ron.

"Alright kid, you can keep the rat," he said, drying off Ron with his Ron. "You've earned it by the looks of it, do I even want to know what happened to your eyebrows?"

"Huh?" Ron asked, feeling his forehead. He was met with a bare expanse of skin and he yelped in alarm.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm sure they'll grow back," said the man dismissively. Get off to bed, now."

Harry and Ron turned away and marched into the bar. Ron was feeling his naked forehead and Harry was rubbing at his still-invisible glasses, trying to process what had just happened.

"Do _all_ creatures in the magical world try and kill you?" asked Harry tiredly as they climbed up to the attic.

"Nah, just the ones we run into," said Ron, sounding braver than he felt.

He frowned as he imagined his eyebrows floating in the pond back in the forest.

"Next time we hear water, we're going in the other direction," he said with a scowl.

"Good idea," said Harry. An odd look crossed his face and he asked:

"Why would _anyone_ pay money for those things?"

"People are barmy, mate," said Ron, still rubbing the place where his eyebrows once were.


	11. Telephone

**I was going to make this chapter longer but the overwhelming positive feedback I got back for making "sooner" a priority rather than "longer" made me go the short and sweet route instead. Hope you like it. **

"We detected the underage apparition, but by the time we were able to pick it out from all the other channels we're monitoring and identify it as independent rather than side-along, they were long gone," said the head of the Auror office, Rufus Scrimgeour. He was standing near a long wooden table addressing the Minister of Magic, Moody, and Dumbledore, who had all been in conference when the latest evidence had arrived.

Fudge sighed.

Another headache and he hadn't even had his first cup of pumpkin café.

"We'd better keep this quiet, especially from Weasley. We don't want the public getting wind of this." He said.

Moody rolled his eyes at the very idea and Scrimgeour spoke.

"Weasley was there when the alert came up. He was one of the people to check the area. I doubt you need to worry about him going public though; we made him sign a secrecy agreement when he joined our task force. If he wants to continue searching for his son he'll be discreet."

"That man will continue looking with or without your permission. If I were you I'd be more concerned with keeping him on our side than putting restrictions on him," said Moody in a gruff tone.

"Is there any other information?" asked Dumbledore calmly before Scrimgeour could retort.

Scrimgeour's face turned to one of vindictive satisfaction.

"I inquired as to the condition of Harry Potter's relatives. Apparently the Dursleys are nice and settled in their new apartment in Ireland. The child threw quite the tantrum when he found out there was no—what do you call it? A "Tele"? Mr. Dursley kept inquiring about muggle jobs. Their transition coordinator told him the local petrol stations were hiring, apparently his tantrum was even bigger than his son's."

Moody cracked a smirk and Fudge nodded in approval.

"Well," said Dumbledore, "if that's all you have for us, I'd better get on."

The group adjourned and Moody moved out of the office and back towards the room that was being dedicated to searching for the missing boys. Halfway there he saw a tall, red haired man moving through the corridors.

"Weasley, I thought I sent you home to get some sleep," he called.

The man froze and turned around.

Moody squinted his eyes in suspicion at the nervous look on Arthur's face.

"What's happened?" asked Moody shrewdly.

"Nothing," said the man. "Just couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about…Ron," he said slowly, still looking twitchy.

Moody observed the man closely before stepping forward.

"Weasley…if you're hiding any new evidence you'd better fork it over now," he growled in a low tone.

"I don't have anything. I just came here to work," said Weasley, his voice growing stronger.

Moody didn't step away, instead he continued on in the same low voice

"Some are starting to say you're too close to the case. Don't give them an excuse to kick you off the taskforce."

Moody stepped away and started down the hall.

"Come on then, let's get started."

The man followed quickly.

"We searched the clearing again but we still couldn't find anything, not even footprints. The ground has been dry in that area as of late so it's no surprise but even so…"

Mr. Weasley didn't say anything.

The pair continued walking until a man poked his head out of a door at the end of the hall.

"Mad-eye! Molly Weasley just got another letter from Ron, she just sent us a copy through the flue!"

The pair rushed down the hall and into the office where a group of investigators were crowded around a table.

Mr. Weasley and Moody pushed their way to the front and they gazed down at the letter that had captivated everyone's attention.

_Dear Mum, Dad, and Everyone else,_

_ I saw in the paper that you reported me missing, but I'm not missing at all, in fact, I'm doing great. I left a letter on the clock explaining everything; did you not find it? Well in any case you can call off the search, because I'm doing quite well. I've found a new place to live and I've even made a friend! Scabbers is also doing well, so tell Percy not to worry. I'll write again soon. Cheers!_

_Love, _

_Ron _

"Arthur, the tone of the letter sounds wrong…he uses words like "great" and "well" a lot, it's overemphasized...do you think he was confounded and forced to write it?" asked one of the wizards by the table.

"I'm not sure," said Arthur. "The friend my...son mentions, could that be Harry?"

"It's possible Arthur," said Moody grimly. "Though given what it says about a new place to live, it could imply a kidnapper too…"

"He's in a position where he can see the news paper, so that could imply that he's either in the wizarding world, or his kidnapper heard the news and forced him to write it," Mr. Weasley mumbled.

"We thought that too. The owl that delivered the letter flew off before your wife could detain it but she said it was a barn owl, medium build."

"May I see the envelope it came in?" he asked.

He was passed the parchment and looked over it carefully before taking the letter and comparing them.

"The handwriting on the envelope. It's different that the handwriting in the letter. It's blotchy too. It looks like—like it was written by a mugglenborn, someone who hasn't used a quill before."

Moody seized the paper.

"Good work, Weasley," he said. "Shacklebolt, bring me the sample of Potter's handwriting we collected from his school!"

The auror hastened to obey and soon Weasley and Moody were looking at them side by side. "The capital "B's" are the same," muttered Moody.

"So are the double r's," muttered Weasley.

"I think it's a match but we'll have it looked over again by Dawlish to be sure. He specializes in handwriting comparisons. He may also be able to tell us if either of the writers were confunded.

The papers were passed along and Moody pulled out a map.

"Here's what we know," he barked to the room.

"We know there was an apparition that matches Ron's pattern in this area…" he circled part of a forest. "We also know that one or both of the boys sent out a letter the following morning. We know that Ron mentions a friend, who could very well be Harry, and he continues to mention his pet rat, Scabbers. Given this information, where can we look?"

"Pet shops," said Weasley at once.

The group turned to stare at him.

"It's a stab in the dark, but if the rat actually _is_ alive then it's possible that it's being kept alive to appease Ron. You know how kids are with their pets. Since they are aware of the news in the wizarding world, either from a first hand perspective or through second hand knowledge, it's possible our kidnapper went to Diagon Alley to scope out information, maybe pick up some supplies. It would be too risky for them to have a prophet delivered to wherever they are hiding so it's more likely they go out to get their information."

"Good," said Moody with raised eyebrows. The rest of the room was looking curiously at Mr. Weasley. His ears went red and he swallowed.

Moody turned to the group again.

"Anything else?"

"If they're going out to gain information it's likely they have an accomplice to make sure the kids don't escape. Perhaps Black has joined the perpetrator?"

Mr. Weasley went stiff at the name "Black."

"Another possibility," said Moody.

"Alright, we'll send Smith and Carter to investigate the news stands and pet shops in Diagon Alley. Blake, and Shacklebolt will go to Knockturn alley to see what they can dig up there."

Another owl swooped in just then and landed on Arthur Weasley's shoulder. Mr. Weasley took the envelope, ripped it open and read.

"What is it?" asked Moody.

"Misuse of Muggle artifact's office, has a question on a cursed telephone," said Mr. Weasley.

Moody waved a dismissive hand and paused suddenly.

"What did you say the cursed object was?" he asked slowly.

"A telephone," said Arthur. "Why?"

It was a very simple thing, but it was enough to set off Moody's internal alarms.

He whipped out his wand ready to ask a security question, because in all the time he'd ever known Arthur Weasley the man had never quite remembered how to pronounce the muggle word "telephone."

He was prepared for the taunts that would come his way when he was proven to be "paranoid" but as a man with constant vigilance as his life motto, it was a risk he was willing to take.

Before he could utter a single threat however Mr. Weasley vanished and in his place was a big, black, dog…

"Black!" Moody cried. Shocked but prepared, he fired off a curse. It was moments like this that "Constant Vigilence" paid off. The spell missed and animal was already running thorough the door. Its claws scrambling against the tile floor as it sprinted through the hallways of the ministry. Those in the office who were quick enough to process what was happening were already chasing after the criminal while shouting and firing spells. Black had the advantage of speed and agility but he had the disadvantage in terms or running surface. His clawed feet were barely able to gain traction on the tile floor and he slammed into corners as he rounded them. He managed to navigate several hallways before a well-placed trip jinx hit the animal in the behind, causing it stumble and roll, head-over-paws, and slam into a wall. Stunners rained down on the animagus before it could even _think _of recovering from the slip.

* * *

><p>He woke up in a haze. It felt like he was under the imperious curse but he wasn't really sure. He couldn't register the shapes around him, everything looked like a blurry and his head felt light, as if it might float away.<p>

"What is your name?" asked a familiar voice.

"Why should I tell you?" Sirius asked.

"Because if you don't you'll be left to the mercy of the dementors."

Sirius's heart sank.

"Dementors have no mercy," he said as the shapes continued to blur, his mind was sharper now though.

"Then I suggest you cooperate," said the voice.

"Who are you?" asked Sirius, trying to think, but thinking made his head hurt. He knew this sensation, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"I am Albus Dumbledore."

_Ah, that's where I know that voice from._

"Am I imperioused?" Sirius asked, wondering when Dumbledore had started using unforgivable curses.

"No, you are under the influence of Veriteserum," said a sharper, more impatient voice. "State your name." **(1)**

_Veriteserum. That makes sense. Should I answer, or keep going in circles…._

Sirius struggled internally before a thought hit him.

The shapes became clearer and he started talking.

"My name is Sirus Orion Black, last surviving member of the House of Black, unregistered Animagus, and wrongfully imprisoned for crimes I did not commit."

"Preposterous!" Sirius heard someone shout but nothing could drown out Dumbledore's cool voice. "We will address that momentarily. For now, tell us that you've done with Arthur Weasley."

"I stunned him, fed him a couple drops of sleeping potion, and put him in a storage closet in Muggle London. He has his wand with him. The door is locked from the outside but not the inside. There's muggle wards placed on it so no one will go in there until he wakes up. I gave him enough potion to keep him asleep for three hours."

"Did you harm him?" asked Dumbledore sharply.

"I hit him from behind. He didn't see it coming…"

Someone in the room growled.

"I was close enough to grab him so he didn't fall on his head. Arthur Weasley is not my enemy. I just needed to borrow his identity."

"Why?" asked the sharp voice that had told him to state his name.

"Harry's in danger. I have to find him, get him back where he's safe."

"And where is he "safe," asked Dumbledore.

"I don't know. I thought he was safe, then he went missing. I was going to assess the situation. See if he wanted to go back to his relatives or come stay with me, or go somewhere else. I'm not sure if he's got anyone else. Remus would take him, but the ministry morons won't let him have custody because they're prejudiced sons-of-"

"I'd mind my tone if I were you, Black," said the snide voice that shouted "Preposterous."

"It's a truth serum," said a gruff voice that sounded like the voice that had growled earlier. "You should be happy there's no filter. Means it's working."

"If you kept Harry, what would you do with him," questioned Dumbledore.

"That's hardly—" started the pompous voice but Sirius started talking.

It wasn't hard to come up with the words. He'd always imagined what life would have been like if he hadn't chased Peter that night.

"Well obviously I'd do the basics, provide food and shelter, love him like a son…. Then I'd teach him all I know about how to have fun, all I can about the subjects they teach in school, and…and everything I remember about Lily and James."

"You sold out Lily and James to Voldemort," snapped Fudge. "It was proven in court."

"I would never hurt Lily and James. I tried to protect them, that's why I was the decoy. We made Peter secret keeper because no one would expect it, everyone thought it was me. It was supposed to be a failsafe. Two layers of protection. If I was killed the wards would still be up, they would still be safe…then Peter…that monster Peter sold them to Voldemort. The miserable rat. I was going to kill him, I tried you know, but he blew up half the street, he turned into a rat. He's an animagus too...He cut off one of his fingers so he could escape into the sewer and make it look like he was blown up—"

"You laughed when the aurors came to get you, why were you laughing?" demanded Scrimgeour.

A tear trickled down Sirius's face. He didn't want to say what the truth was but he had no choice in this situation.

"You know—when you think you're going to die, they say your life flashes before your eyes? When—when James—died, all I could think of was the time we spent together. He was my brother, I spent more time with him than I did my family…

When I was fighting Peter I kept thinking of James, and of Harry, and Lily. When I saw their house…I knew I'd lost my brother, but at the same time, the joke was on Voldemort because Harry was still alive and he was—who knows where? I told Peter—he was the biggest loser because he picked the wrong side. He betrayed everyone and then the side he was fighting for lost.

I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to comprehend what a loser he was so I laughed at him and told him what a fool he was, how no one would ever love him again because of what he'd done and I kept laughing, even when he blew things up and ran away because I couldn't stop. Everything hurt so bad, I was out of my head. All I could do was laugh. I couldn't explain anything to the Aurors. I wish I'd been given the chance because you're wrong. I didn't have a trial. I was prepared to die for Lily, James, and Harry while playing the decoy and keeping Peter safe but everyone thought I was the monster…because my last name is Black."

There was a pause and it was a long time before anyone spoke again. When they finally did, debate broke out.

"Do you think he confounded himself?" asked the pompous voice. "So he believes all this?"

"We stripped him of all spell, potions, and charms when we captured him," said the sharp voice.

"And his speech was too complex for him to be confounded," said the growly voice.

"Is that Moody?" asked Sirius vaguely as he recognized the growly-voice.

"Yes. What of it, boy?"

"…just wondering…though I do have something, now you're here…"

The room waited as Sirius's mind whirled.

"Don't tell the public you've caught me. It might scare the kidnapper. My escape provided them with some comfort, I'm sure, since everyone thinks I'm involved. If he finds out I've been captured it might make him desparate. I don't want Harry or the Weasley kid getting hurt."

"We won't take orders from—" said the Pompus voice but Dumbledore spoke.

"We will take that into consideration. For now let us commence with this interview."

Sirius told them everything they wanted to know…Twice. After the first interview they knocked him out, and woke him up again to repeat the interview under the influence of a different batch of veritiserum to confirm the story to the witnesses in the room and the other parties they'd invited in to watch. They had asked his permission that time, as the first testimony didn't count towards anything official since he hadn't consented. They probably would have dosed him a third time if a healer intervened and said they'd cause brain damage if they kept filling him with truth potion.

"Send him to the infirmary and post _wizards_ by his door. The dementors already tried to kiss him once during transport and Black is clearly a valuable asset," commanded Dumbledore as the healer who'd been there to witness veritiserum administration loaded a glassy-eyed Sirius onto a stretcher. The man shivered at the mention of dementor's kiss.

"I still say we need proof," said Fudge, stubbornly.

"Yes, you do…to prove his guilt. As it is everything points to him being innocent. The law states that we can hold him for up to forty days before the case must go to trial. That time can be used to gather evidence for the prosecutor and the _defense_," said Dumbledore.

Fudge glanced around, surreptitiously gauging the room. Amelia Bones was there, as were Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour. There were also a handful of wizards who had been on the board for justice reform after Barty Crouch's fall from grace.

"Of course not, he will be given the fairest protection considering the circumstances. He is still guilty of breaking into the ministry and, of course, we can't overlook his status as an unregistered animagus but we can keep him under Auror guard until his trial."

"I'll set something up for later this week," said one of the justices at once as the others in the room nodded their approval.

Reassured that he'd made the right decision for his political standing he carefully moved out of the room.

Moody hung back and nodded his head at Dumbledore. The pair walked side by side until they reached an empty room. The pair went in silently and surreptitiously.

"What is it, Alastor?"Dumbledore asked.

Moody checked the room to make sure they were actually alone before addressing the man.

"I don't like the way a couple of these puzzle pieces are fitting together," he said grimly.

"What do you mean?" Asked Dumbledore.

"You know how Black keeps talking about how Pettigrew can turn into a rat?" asked Moody.

"You're wondering about the pet rat the Weasley boy keeps," said Dumbledore shrewdly.

"It's been in their family for years. Molly said they got it right after Voldemort fell. She said she was so happy about his defeat, she didn't have the heart to tell Percy he couldn't keep it."

An ominous feeling filled the room.

"Report your suspicions to Rufus. I'll talk to the Weasleys.

**In case you all, like me, have a burning curiosity for details. The sharp voice Sirius hear was Rufus Scrimgeor, the pompus one was Fudge, and the growly one was Moody.**


	12. Only a Dream?

"Are you sure you're up for this, Bill?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"It's like Moody said, they will be more at ease with the interview if he thinks it's just standard procedure. Having me there instead of you or mum will help me convey that this isn't a big deal. We don't want them to panic and overanalyze things, if that happens he'll confuse what he thinks we _want_ them to remember with what they _actually_ remember."

He turned to the other person present. Auror Bell was dressed in casual robes and had a soft look about her that put people at ease.

"We'd best get on. McGonagall just contacted me and said she'd have him in her office at eight." Her voice was as soft as her features and Bill could easily see why she was assigned to this case.

McGonagall was not there yet when they stepped through the fire so the pair took seats in some chairs near her desk.

"Remember to ease him into it," said Mrs. Bell.

"I know," said Bill.

There was an awkward silence.

"Don't you have a daughter who's almost Hogwarts age?" asked Bill, trying to ease the tension

"Katie," said Mrs. Bell fondly. "She can't wait to come here. All she can talk about is playing for one of the quidditch teams."

Bill smiled, but before he could say anything else McGonagall stepped through the door with Madame Pomfrey and Percy, who looked nervous.

"Bill?" he asked, confused.

Percy knew his older brother had been pulled out of class earlier and no one had seen him since. The fact that he was here now with a stranger in McGonagall's office put him on guard.

Bill put on a tired smile.

"Hey, Perce," he said affectionately.

"What's going on?" asked Percy, "who is that?"

"This is Auror Bell, she wanted to do a couple more interviews. She needs someone of age in the family to supervise though, that's why I'm here. Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey are here as witnesses."

"I already told you everything I know," said Percy, frowning.

"Of course you did," said Auror Bell, nodding. "Sometimes though, when we're stressed out, we forget things. We thought that with a little dose of calming draught you may be able to think of things you were too flustered to remember before."

"I have to study for an exam," muttered Percy absently, knowing that a dose of calming draught would render him useless for the rest of the night.

"I will speak to your teachers about rescheduling them," said McGonagall.

Percy looked more alarmed by the accommodation than anything.

If they were that desperate to interview him…

Auror Bell stepped in again after reading his face.

"We just want to get this done as soon as possible. You know how long it can take to process data," she said soothingly.

"Alright," said Percy, still looking uneasy. Something about this didn't feel right to him but he couldn't think of any more objections.

Bill understood his discomfort. He had gone through the same process before he'd been brought in to help. He hadn't recalled anything strange though. He hoped that Percy wouldn't either. If he did—the implications were just too horrible.

McGonagall transfigured two armchairs into a couch and Auror Bell instructed Percy to lie down.

"You'll also need to take some veritiserum," said Bell. "Standard procedure."

Percy looked unsettled and Bill squeeze his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure she doesn't ask you anything embarrassing," he said.

Percy glanced up at Pomfrey, suddenly realizing why she was _really _there and he looked at her with a question in his eyes.

"I checked the doses myself," she said reassuringly. "I'll be here the whole time to monitor you."

Percy ignored the alarm bells now ringing in his head, whatever all this was about, this was for Ron. He gritted his teeth, and downed the potions.

At first, nothing happened. He opened his mouth uncertainly to ask if something was wrong. Then they hit, hard and fast.

He felt like he was…all floaty and light. Like the time an upperclassman had snuck firewhiskey into his drink as a prank. He told this to Bill, who was holding his hand and McGonagall asked sharply just which student had done this.

"If I tell you he'll say bad things about me to the whole school," said Percy drowsily.

"Let's stay on target," said Auror Bell gently. "Percy, what do you remember about Scabbers?"

"Scabbers?" Asked Percy. "Ron has him."

"Yes, but what can you tell us about when _you_ had him? What was he like?"

"Lazy," said Percy, "boring. He liked fudge flies and he has a toe missing."

"I see," said the Auror. "Is there anything else about Scabbers? Anything you thought was—funny or interesting?"

"Nothing special. I had crazy dreams with him in it but nothing interesting ever happened with him in real life."

"Tell us about these dreams," said Auror Bell easily as Bill went stiff.

"When I first got him I dreamed he turned into a human then back into a rat. It was a weird dream."

Bill went pale, and McGonagall frowned. She wasn't privy to why this interview was taking place but apparently Bill knew something. She furrowed her brows.

_There's not registered animargi that can turn into rats… _she mused.

"Did you have this dream many times, or only once?" asked Auror Bell softly.

"Just once," muttered Percy. "When I first got Scabbers, only once."

"In the dream, what did Scabbers look like?"

"I don't know. He was a man, obviously. He still looked like a rat, I mean; his teeth and stuff made him look rat-like. His hand was bandaged over a missing finger. I could see red and yellow stains on the bandages then—Scabbers was a rat again and the dream was over. I wanted to tell Mum about it the next day but I forgot, so I wrote about it in my diary instead."

"Where is that diary, Percy?" asked Auror Bell.

"I can't tell you that. It's a secret," muttered Percy. "The twins'll laugh at me if they ever find them."

"We won't let the twins find out, it'll be our little secret," said Auror Bell.

"Why do you want my diary so badly?" asked Percy drowsily.

"It may help us find Ron," said Bill, squeezing his brother's hand. "Remember when Moody came asking for memories so he could see how Ron thinks? It's a lot like that."

His voice was calm, but inside he wanted to scream. Moody had briefed him and his parents on the whole situation with Sirius Black's capture and interrogation. The man wasn't supposed to, he was only allowed to give them the barest minimum of information, but Moody saw no point in keeping the three in the dark. He did emphasize that the information was top secret, any slip up could lead to the kidnapper panicking and hurting Ron, so they hadn't discussed what they'd learned, even amongst themselves. Bill knew the implications of Percy's answers to the interview questions though, and it was a struggle not to show just how scared he was.

"Alright," said Percy. "But promise not to tell the twins where they are."

"I swear on my Chudley Cannons shirt," said Bill.

"In my dresser, the bottom drawer has a false bottom. Dad helped me make it. I don't remember what happened, but I was crying years ago because I had no privacy, so he helped me make the secret space. I hide all my diaries in there. Don't tell anyone."

"Thank you for trusting us with your secret," said Auror Bell. "Do you think you could trust us with the memory of the dream as well?"

"What do you mean?" asked Percy.

"It's a spell, so she can see what Scabbers looked like in your dream. It's safe, don't worry," said Bill.

"Alright," muttered Percy.

The Auror used her wand to draw the memory from the boy and place it in a vial. She then asked other questions, fluff questions, about Ron that would make it hard for Percy to remember exactly what they'd asked him during the interview. The potions began to wear off and Auror Bell thanked Percy and the nurse took him to the hospital wing.

It wasn't over there, as much as he wished it was. They had to go through the same process with Charlie, Fred, and George. Charlie and George had remembered nothing. Fred though...

_I went to the kitchen once in the middle of the night, cuz I was thirsty. I thought I saw Dad in the kitchen but then dad disappeared and I went behind the table to see where he'd gone, but I just saw Scabbers. I told George I saw Dad turn into a rat and he reckoned I was sleep-walking, because he heard Dad get up to check on Ginny. She was crying about a nightmare._

Bill crossed his arms, trying to focus on what Auror Bell was saying.

"I need to retrieve the diaries, then I must speak with the team working on your brother's case. Remember, what we learned today cannot be repeated," she warned.

Bill nodded solemnly.

He turned to his professor the moment the Auror left.

"I need to return home. I—I'm not sure when I'll be back."

Minerva McGonagall looked down at him, her face unreadable.

"Before you go, I need to have a word with you. Please, have a seat."

Bill sat down in an armchair warily as McGonagall took her place behind her desk.

"Mr. Weasley," she said softly. "I am aware of how difficult your current situation is, however you are still as student here and it is still my job to ensure that you succeed."

She sighed.

"Since your brother's disappearance you have missed several classes to work on his case and you haven't been putting forth the effort to complete your make up work. Your grades are reflecting that, and if you keep it up you will not pass your NEWTs."

Bill looked down at the floor, and his face showed defeat.

McGonagall looked at the boy over the frames of her glasses and said, kindly.

"Go home for tonight and sort through your thoughts. If you want to come back, we are more than willing to help you catch up. Several of your professors have even offered to tutor you privately to make up any classes you have missed or may miss in future.

If you feel that this isn't a good time, you can come back next year to finish your education, or seek home tutelage. Whatever you decide, remember that you owe it to yourself and your family to continue pursuing your dreams. From what Percy has told me, Ron is a kind and generous child. I doubt he would want you to throw away your future."

Bill nodded.

"Thank you professor, I—I should go now. I'll think about what you said."

Bill went over to the fire, called the Burrow, and stepped into the flames.

Mrs. Weasley was waiting for him when he came through.

"Bill!" she said anxiously. "How did it go? Auror Bell came over to collect some of Percy's things then she and Arthur went to the ministry, but she didn't explain what happened."

"Have a seat, Mum," said Bill tiredly as he pulled up a chair.

She sat next to him and he held her hands as he explained what Percy and Fred had said during their interviews.

Her eyes watered and she stared off into the distance.

"So Moody was right—My poor baby…"

She turned to Bill her, face pale.

"You don't think he ever—did anything to your brothers?"

"No," said Bill sharply, nearly vomiting at the thought. "It would have been too risky. Going on what Percy said he only transformed to treat an infection on his hand. He said there were yellow stains on the bandages, and from what George said he was just looking for food in the kitchen. Besides, you remember what Moody said: Pettigrew isn't the brightest bulb in the bunch when it comes to spell work. He might not even be able to modify memories."

Mrs. Weasley put her chin in her hand.

"I just can't believe this is happening. We aren't the Malfoys, with cursed items in our basement and ties to horrible people. Your father and I never even openly fought in the war—we couldn't with so many young children to think of. We were always just…us. Just the Weasleys, the blood traitors with over half a dozen kids. Why would he pick us?"

"He's scum, Mum. Rats like him always target the innocent."

The two sat in silence, thinking about what he did to the Potters.

"I wish we'd caught it sooner," said Molly. "None of this would have happened."

Bill tried to find a change of subject.

"Do you need me to pick up Ginny from the Lovegoods'?" he asked at last. He'd welcome a chance to get out of the house.

"Xenophilius said she could stay for a few days. Luna hasn't been quite right since Marigold's accident and her and Ginny are good company for each other. They take each other's mind off things."

"That's good," said Bill.

Mrs. Weasley patted his arm.

"Thank you for your help, sweetheart. You'd better get back to school, though. Your father and I can handle things from here."

"I was thinking maybe I'd take some time off," said Bill. "I spoke with McGonagall about it and she says it's an option. I can help with the case, maybe go with Dad to the ministry—"

Mrs. Weasley wrapped Bill up in her arms and held him tightly.

"You've been so helpful," she said holding him tightly. "My sweet boy. You've been trying so hard—I can't let you drop out though. I know it's a lot to ask, but I need you to keep moving forward."

She pulled back and put his face in her hands. She smiled encouragingly, channeling as much strength as she could to produce the expression even when her heart was broken.

"You've done all you can here, so go back to school and finish the term. If—" Mrs. Weasley chocked.

"If Ronnie's not back by Christmas, we can talk more then. In the meanwhile, just try to keep going."

"Alright then," said Bill miserably. "Only for the rest of this term."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe Fletch is letting us keep one," said Ron eagerly as he peered into the makeshift nest they'd created.<p>

"Only if they all survive," said Harry worriedly.

"If I can take care of Scabbers, I can take care of these guys," said Ron confidently.

Harry looked at the delicate owl hatchlings they'd found during their last journey into the forest. There were seven of them, and Fletch had been ecstatic because snowy owls were apparently highly prized on the market. The owls were still young yet though, and they needed a lot of care. Fletch knew if he sold them now he'd get a lower price, so he told the boys that if they kept all seven birds alive, they could keep one.

As far as Harry and Ron were concerned they were getting the better end of the deal because they'd have taken good care of the baby owls regardless of whether they could keep one or not.

Ron reached out a finger towards a bird to pet its soft down before withdrawing it quickly. Fletch had told them not to hold them or touch them without his permission, their bones were still very fragile and handling them too much could be dangerous.

Harry turned a page of the owl care book Fletch had borrowed from a friend and read intently.

Ron sighed and went over to sit on his cot. He fiddled with the pages of a second hand magical history book he'd been reading with Harry. Renette had given them a few basic schoolbooks that hadn't been selling in her shop when she came to "check on them" (update their glamor charms.) While the information was new to him (it was a second year Hogwarts text) it wasn't very interesting. Harry on the other hand treated it like it was a quidditch magazine. He just couldn't get enough of hearing about historic figures like Hedwig, Agrippa, and Gunhilda.

_It's like dad with the muggle world, _thought Ron. His head hung low at the thought. Even though it had only been a short time since he'd run away, Ron _really _missed his family.

"Ron," Harry called.

Ron looked up.

"Yea, Harry?" he asked.

"Why are you sad?" asked Harry

"I'm not sad," Ron lied.

"But…you were crying last night," mumbled Harry.

"Was not!" Ron denied.

"Were too," Harry responded, though he didn't say it in a mean way, he just stated it. "Why were you crying?"

Ron pouted and pulled his knees to his chest.

"I miss my family is all. Don't worry though, I'm not about to leave or anything."

Harry's brow furrowed.

"Why did you leave them? I know you said you didn't think they'd miss you and you weren't the favorite, but you never said exactly why you left."

"It sounds stupid," he admitted, wishing Harry hadn't asked.

How was he supposed to tell a kid who had been abused that he'd basically just run away because he felt like it?

"Tell me anyway," said Harry with a shrug.

Ron sighed.

"It's just—I have six siblings, and every one of them is _special_," he said sadly.

Harry looked at him questioningly, his green eyes curious.

Ron cleared his throat and elaborated.

"Bill is the oldest; he's really cool and good at his subjects in school. Charlie, the next oldest, is good at quidditch and he's really brave. Percy is smart, really smart, and he always does everything right. Fred and George, the twins, are funny, they always have these brilliant jokes that make everyone laugh. Ginny's the only girl and she's the youngest too so _everyone_ loves her best. Me though? I'm just Ron. I'm not cool like Bill or amazing at pulling brave stunts like Charlie. I'm not smart and good like Percy or funny like the twins, and no one in the family will ever like me nearly as much as they like Ginny. Every time I argued with her, Mum would take Ginny's side, even if it was her fault," he said with a sigh.

"I know what that's like," said Harry, thinking of all the times his aunt had sided with Dudley. "So they treated you badly?"

"No," said Ron shaking his head and Harry looked confused.

"They love me and they're really nice," said Ron, honestly. "It's great when it's just me and Mum or me and Dad, but whenever one of my brothers comes in, or Ginny, they get all the attention."

Ron would have stopped there, but looking at Harry, who had run away to escape being locked up and _starved,_ he felt the need to justify his choice, so he continued.

"My brothers and sister get all of the attention and it's like I'm invisible most of the time. I know they all love me, but I also know I'm the least favorite kid. I just wanted to see what it was like—to be the favorite for once. I tried acting like my brothers to see if my family would like me better then, but nothing changed. As long as I'm at home I will always be "nothing-special-Ron," so I decided that I should try going somewhere _besides_ home."

Harry's brow furrowed.

"I guess that makes sense in a way," he said, thinking of all the times where _he_ wished that just _once_ the Dursley's or someone, _anyone_ in his life would treat him like he was special. It was _lonely_ to be so unimportant. Still though, one concept was still bothering him. "—but they love you and it sounds like they really want you home. Not everyone gets to be loved…"

Harry was about to suggest that Ron go back home to visit but fear seized him, if Ron went home for a visit and they didn't let him come back, Harry would have to go back to the Dursley's, or have to live with Fletch (who was almost as scary as Uncle Vernon) all by himself.

"I'm not going back," said Ron firmly. "Dad always said that when you do something, you need to follow through. I made you leave the Dursley's so now it's my job to make sure you don't ever have to go back," he said.

Harry felt relieved, though he was still concerned.

"Keep writing them letters at least."

"I will," said Ron. "Maybe you can write one too next time and introduce yourself, so people will know you're safe too."

"Good idea," said Harry with a smile.

The door opened and Fletch stepped inside.

"Time for work," he told the pair.

The boys stood up slowly. They were still sore from their last adventure and reluctant to leave the owl hatchlings, but duty called. Ron wondered what was the night would bring them this time.


End file.
